


when i get weary of the sky

by spicyboyfriend



Series: catch me when i fall [1]
Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Binge Drinking, Cheating, Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Strangers to Lovers, Voice Kink, but the majority of it is domestic gay fluff, listen those first tags make it sound dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 21:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicyboyfriend/pseuds/spicyboyfriend
Summary: “I think you deserve everything.” Hyojong said under his breath. “I want to give you everything, hyung. I want to protect you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> man this took me forever to wriTE AND IT'S SO LONG???? M SORRY
> 
> Some disclaimers for tags:  
> \- **Past child abuse** refers to mild descriptions of child abuse. Also includes child abuse in the form of homophobia.  
>  \- **Past alcohol abuse/alcoholism** is only a cautionary tag for those that consider binge/blackout drinking to be alcoholism.  
>  \- **Past character death** is exactly as it sounds! The **minor character death** tag is linked to this tag.  
>  \- **Implied/referenced self harm** is extremely mild and is only referred to once.  
>  \- **Internalized homophobia** is exactly as it sounds and is a central plot point. **Coming out** and **cheating** are linked to this tag!
> 
> i tried to keep the tags true to what they were in the story, but they really are not graphic depictions or descriptions of any of them, and the majority of this is just really really gay domestic fluff. with smut. like a couple smut scenes.
> 
>  *****EDIT***** : This story has been translated to Russian by vicao! Read it on [here!](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5153947)

Morning light spilled in the bedroom as Hwitaek roused from his hangover induced sleep. The pounding of his head hardly compared to the burning and bubbling at the back of his throat with a warning of throwing up. He moved to tug his blanket off from his legs, the room feeling exponentially warmer than it normally was. Hyunggu must have changed the thermostat again, the two never able to agree on a temperature inside of the apartment. It was either too hot for Hwitaek, and he would have to leave his fan on all night long, or it was too cold for Hyunggu, and he’d sneak into Hwitaek’s room and steal his blankets from him.

A dry heave worked its way past his lips as he shoved his uncomfortable and scratchy blanket off of his legs and he fell to the floor with a quiet thud. He was sure their downstairs neighbors would leave another passive aggressive note about how disrespectful Hwitaek was (even though he hardly ever made loud noises like that in their apartment, and they just _really_ didn’t like him), but for now he could not care less as he dragged himself across his (astoundingly dirty) bedroom floor. His eyes focused on the door, which was more to the left than he remembered it being. Footsteps echoed down the hall, the sound of bare feet hitting the floor as Hwitaek wondered just when Hyunggu had decided to stop wearing his slippers around the apartment before Hwitaek watched his bedroom door swing open, hit the wall adjacent to it, and then caught sight of a tall figure in his doorway.

Instinctively, he moved to sit up, only he moved too fast and swayed backwards, head hitting the hard metal frame of his bed (but he could have _swore_ his frame was wooden, not metal), before he let his eyes trail up the tall figure. Hyunggu was _not_ that tall, not even close to that tall before he met a pair of large eyes, messy black hair unbrushed and lips tugged up at the corners with a grin on his face.

“What are you doing in my room?!” Hwitaek shouted at the stranger, who narrowed his gaze towards Hwitaek and let out a stifled laugh.

“Your room?” He said, voice surprisingly deep for somebody with a face like his— soft, gentle, bright pink lips and chocolate brown eyes— before he gestured towards the unmade bed, and the posters on the walls. “This is my room, hyung.”

 _“Hyung?!”_ Hwitaek shouted just as loudly as he had before, gripping tightly to the metal frame of the bed and pushing himself off of the floor. “Who _are_ you?”

“Oh, that’s right, you probably don’t remember.” He said, reaching his hand out toward Hwitaek, who flinched at the sudden movement and skittered onto the stranger’s bed. Now that he thought about it, he realized the reason the blanket was scratchy and uncomfortable was because it wasn’t his blanket, or even a blanket, but a bed sheet, and it was so hot in the apartment because this was not his apartment, he was in some stranger’s place, and—

“Hyojong-hyung!” The strange man called down the hall of the apartment complex, his voice followed by a few echoing footsteps and then a shorter, blonde haired man appeared beside him.

“Oh, he’s awake.” The blonde— apparently named Hyojong— said nonchalantly. “Seok-ah, don’t you have a t-shirt you can loan him?”

“He’s much closer to your size, hyung, why don’t you just give him one of yours— ouch! I wasn’t taking a jab at your height, I was just saying!” Wooseok, the tallest out of the three, pouted and rubbed his arm with a pout on his lips. Hwitaek glanced down at himself to find he was shirtless, left only in his plain black boxers and socks. His face deepened to cherry red with embarrassment, heart stopping in his chest when he realized he was sitting practically naked in front of two strangers who apparently knew him even though he had no idea who they were, other than their names.

Hyojong glanced at Hwitaek, his own expression serious and unwavering as he nudged Wooseok out of the room. The tallest whined that it was his bedroom anyways, why was he being kicked out for a second time in the past day, but gave in and shut the door behind him.

“You don’t remember last night at all, do you?” Hyojong said. Hwitaek made a vague attempt to cover himself, but Hyojong did the honors and grabbed a shirt from Wooseok’s dresser and threw it towards him.

“Did we...?” Hwitaek gestured towards Hyojong, and then to himself. Hyojong quirked a brow at his question, shook his head after letting Hwitaek believe for a moment that maybe he had totally slept with this complete stranger last night in his drunken stupor. Hwitaek let out a sigh and relaxed. “Oh good. I would’ve felt awful if we did and I couldn’t remember.”

“You were drunk out of your mind.” Hyojong mumbled. “I have an important question to ask you.”

Hwitaek nodded at Hyojong’s serious tone of voice.

“Do you like pancakes or waffles?”

“Uh....” Hwitaek furrowed his brows, expected Hyojong to laugh and say he was just joking or something like that, but his expression remained stony and earnest. “Waffles.” Hyojong nodded and moved to leave the room, but before he could, Hwitaek stuttered out, “Wait!”

Hyojong leaned against the doorframe and cocked his head slightly, just enough to show he wasn’t particularly interested in a long, drawn out conversation about whatever it was Hwitaek clearly wanted to discuss.

“I mean... you’re going to tell me what happened last night, right?”

Hyojong shrugged. “Yeah. After you get dressed. And after you eat something.”

  
  
  
  


That was how Hwitaek found himself sitting with some stranger’s clothes on at a round dinner table as Wooseok noisily slurped down the last of his milk and cereal while tipping the bowl back to his lips. Hyojong leaned with his back against the counter, eyes never meeting Hwitaek’s own and instead settling on Wooseok, on how the tallest leaned back in his seat and patted his stomach, sighed and gestured towards the waffle maker Hyojong had pulled out.

“Are they almost done, hyung?” Wooseok said. Hyojong nodded silently, only to hear Hwitaek clear his throat from the other side of the table. The two simultaneously turned their gazes to Hwitaek, who tensed visibly.

“Uhm... you keep calling him hyung... are you not older?” Hwitaek gestured between Wooseok and Hyojong. Wooseok grinned widely, and Hyojong rolled his eyes as soon as the tallest started speaking.

“Mm, nope! I’m just really tall for my age. I’m only 18.”

“Oh.” Hwitaek let his jaw drop, suddenly aware of just how short he was compared to this giant of a teenager. “I just assumed.... Sorry.” He directed the apology towards Hyojong, who shrugged and turned to open the waffle maker.

“What’s your name anyways?” Wooseok jabbed his finger towards Hwitaek.

“O-oh.” Hwitaek felt even stupider than he had before. “I didn’t even think of that.... My name is Lee Hwitaek.”

Wooseok held his hand out. “Nice to meet you, hyung. My name is Wooseok.”

Hwitaek took his hand and bowed slightly, which the younger seemed to catch on to a moment afterwards and apologized for the informality.

“Did I not introduce myself last night?” Hwitaek said nervously.

“Oh, you were barely coherent last night when Hyojong dragged you in over his shoulder, isn’t that right, hyu— _yah,_ stop hitting me!” Wooseok whined as Hyojong slapped the back of his head and frowned.

“You’ve got such a big mouth in the morning.” Hyojong said after setting a plate of waffles down in front of Wooseok. “Stuff your mouth and be quiet for a while.” Hyojong turned to Hwitaek and pointed to the waffle maker. “Breakfast?”

“I really can’t accept breakfast after the inconvenience I’ve been to both of you.” Hwitaek shook his head. Hyojong ignored his protests and grabbed the bowl of batter and scraped what was left into the waffle maker as it sizzled. Then he closed it and threw the bowl in the sink, let it soak with the hot water and bubbles. “Or I could totally go for waffles. That’s fine too.”

“Hyojong-hyung doesn’t take “no” for an answer most of the time, especially when it comes to food.” Wooseok said between bites of waffles and fruit. Hwitaek wanted to ask if he had imagined Wooseok eating cereal only a few minutes earlier, because the boy’s appetite was apparently strong enough for him to eat half of the waffle within a minute of having a plate full of food in front of him.

“Uhm... could I ask about what happened?” Hwitaek said softly, Hyojong glancing over his shoulder and nodding.

“You got drunk at a bar.” Hyojong prompted. Hwitaek parted his lips and let out a soft noise somewhere between discontentment and embarrassment. “Do you remember that?”

“I do.” Hwitaek said sheepishly, though Wooseok didn’t seem to note the change in his tone of voice as he wolfed down the last of his waffles and leaned back in his seat happily. Hyojong opened the waffle maker when it beeped and pulled the waffle out with a fork, setting it down on a plate for Hwitaek to take. He did so gingerly, bowing and thanking Hyojong who seemed to wave the gesture off as unnecessary.

“I was there last night too, at that bar. When you left, I noticed two guys leaving after you did.” Hyojong let his eyes flicker from the dirty kitchen floor up to Hwitaek’s curious gaze. “Anyways, those guys were bad news. They’ve roughed people up for money before, so I followed you out too, caught up to you and told you to come home with me before they did anything.” Hyojong shrugged nonchalantly again. “Wooseok lent you his bed and you passed out after throwing up a few times. That’s all.”

Hwitaek lowered his head a few times, eyes shut as he thanked them for their kindness and hospitality while he was drunk. Wooseok grinned and shook his head.

“It’s no big deal, hyung! You were really funny anyways, and I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” Wooseok said. Hyojong pushed himself off of the counter, tapped Wooseok’s shoulder and gestured towards the kitchen floor.

“Could you clean up a little bit before you go to class?” He said. Wooseok nodded quickly. “Thank you. I’ll do the dishes when I come home.”

“Hurry, you’re gonna be late!” Wooseok said. Hwitaek turned in his seat and watched Hyojong rush down the hall, returning a moment later with work clothes on and his keys in hand, shoes dangling by the strings from his teeth as he fell to the couch and tugged them on within an instant. He ran his fingers through his hair, glancing at Hwitaek as if he had forgotten something.

“Your wallet is in my room.” He jutted a thumb down the hall. “And your clothes are in the dryer. Wooseok can grab them for you. I have to go. Nice meeting you.” Hyojong spoke quickly as he rushed out of the apartment, his footsteps echoing down the hall before they faded into the ambient sound.

Wooseok rose from his seat as well, stretched his arms over his head and sighed heavily. He unplugged the waffle maker Hyojong had used. He knew he had to give it time to cool down, so he grabbed the broom from the other corner of the kitchen and started to sweep up the mess of crumbs and dust bunnies.

“He’s, uh, not really one for small talk, is he?” Hwitaek said. Wooseok glanced up at him with wide eyes and raised brows.

“Who?”

“Hyojong-ssi.” Hwitaek said his name, though it sounded foreign on his tongue.

“Oh! No, he’s actually a lot of fun to be around and stuff. He was just in a hurry because of work, and plus he didn’t know what to say to you. He’s not very good with people sometimes.” Wooseok said hushedly, as if Hyojong could hear him.

“Work?” Hwitaek said. “But he’s so young. Doesn’t he go to school?”

“Hm, nope. He works almost every day to pay rent and stuff. _I’m_ the one going to school.” Wooseok pulled his phone from his pocket, eyes widening. “Which starts in an hour. Ugh, I don’t want to walk there.”

“I’d offer to drive you,” Hwitaek said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, “but my car is at the bar, and I have no idea how close we are to that place.”

“Hyojong-hyung didn’t tell you? After he brought you back here, he walked back to the bar and picked up your car. It’s parked across the street.” Wooseok vaguely gestured to the window in the living room, apparently where “across the street” was.

“He did all that?” Hwitaek said, furrowing his brows and lowering his voice. “Are you sure he didn’t get anything out of helping me? Did I pay him a lot of money to do that stuff for me?”

Wooseok burst into laughter. “No, he’s not like that. He really was just worried about you.” A loud buzzer went off down the hall, making the two of them jump before Wooseok let out a noise of surprise. “Your clothes are done.”

The tallest rushed down the hall, brought out Hwitaek’s jeans and loose t-shirt he had been wearing to the bar and handed them to him with a smile. “Do you like that shirt, hyung?”

“Eh?” Hwitaek said before he realized Wooseok meant his own shirt on Hwitaek’s body. “Oh, it’s a nice shirt. I only wore it because Hyojong gave it to me.”

“You can keep it if you like it!”

“W-what?” Hwitaek stumbled. “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to do that. Really, I appreciate it.”

“Mm, I insist.” Wooseok hummed. “Keep it as a souvenir of your fun night at Woojong’s apartment.”

“Woojong...?”

“Wooseok, Hyojong?” Wooseok puffed his chest slightly. “Came up with the name myself. Isn’t it clever?”

Hwitaek stifled a laugh at the younger behind his hand as he whined and deflated.

“Hyung, you’re not supposed to laugh at me!”

“Sorry.” Hwitaek said with a smile on his face for the first time all morning long. “I should get changed. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Just use my room.” Wooseok pointed down the hall, and Hwitaek gave in this time without argument, quickly changing his clothes in Wooseok’s room before emerging and remembering Hyojong had said his wallet was in his own room, not the youngest’s. He stepped inside, apologized for the intrusion even though Hyojong wasn’t there, and surveyed the room. Clothes messily hung from a hamper in the corner of the room, his bed was unkempt, but decorated with cute pillows and a decorative blanket at the end of it that he probably never used, but it accented the slight color scheme of his room perfectly. Hyojong didn’t seem like the type of guy to keep his room like that, but what did Hwitaek know?

Hwitaek took a cautionary step inside and found his black wallet sitting on Hyojong’s dresser full of picture frames and candles. He snatched up his wallet and stuffed it away, but couldn’t help letting his eyes linger at the picture frames on the dresser. They were pictures of people, young people, smiles and laughter in each picture. Even Hyojong himself was grinning in some of them, throwing up a peace sign or two while posing for photos. Most of them included Hyojong and Wooseok, but there were plenty of other faces Hwitaek found staring back at him as he remembered he had to work that day, didn’t even know what time it was in the day as he turned and moved to rush from the room.

Before he left, he asked Wooseok for a piece of paper and a pen, scribbled something sloppily on it and ran back to Hyojong’s room to leave it on his dresser.

  
  
  
  


Hwitaek received a text a few days after the bar incident. The line was simple, unmitigated by a greeting or introduction and just read:

 **Unknown:** **  
** You don’t owe me anything. **(1:20 pm)**

Hwitaek quickly typed back a response, which the other read a second later.

 **Hwitaek:**  
Please let me pay for dinner, at least.  
Please? I really owe you a lot. **(1:20 pm)**

 **Unknown:** **  
** If I go to dinner, Wooseok will want to come too. **(1:20 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** That’s fine! Please bring him, in fact. I owe him as much as I owe you. **(1:21 pm)**

 **Unknown:** **  
**You’re going to regret that invitation as soon as he gets there.  
The kid is a glutton. **(1:21 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Is that a yes I’m hearing~? **(1:21 pm)**

 **Unknown:**  
Only so you can see just how much he eats. **(1:22 pm)**

Hwitaek smiled down at his phone, unable to hide his satisfaction as he pressed his phone to his chest and jumped with joy. Hyunggu hardly spared him a second look from his spot on the couch, eyes returning to the textbooks in front of him as he crammed for an exam he had the following day.

  
  
  
  


Sitting eagerly in his favorite booth at a restaurant of his choice (because Hyojong absolutely _refused_ to pick a place to eat), Hwitaek crossed and uncrossed his legs for what felt like the millionth time. He had gotten to the restaurant a whole ten minutes earlier than the time Hyojong had chosen, because he never liked being on the dot anyways, and found himself waiting for Wooseok and Hyojong. He texted Hyojong to let him know he was there early, which earned him a dissatisfied text in response _(“If I had known you were one of those people, I would’ve been there ten minutes earlier too. We’re a few minutes away.”)._

As he scrolled through his phone, Hwitaek heard a loud shout from across the restaurant as Wooseok barrelled through the place and rushed to the seat opposite of Hwitaek. Hwitaek looked up and met Hyojong’s relaxed gaze. His heart inexplicably skipped in his chest. A ball in his throat kept him from swallowing properly, eyes wide with something like admiration when he saw Hyojong again for the first time since the bar incident, and maybe he was thinking too much, but Hyojong seemed to give off a naturally comforting vibe. In fact, he was very humble as he sat down and bowed his head down to thank Hwitaek for the meal. Their waitress came and took their drink orders, left them in the silence of one another’s company, and it was in that moment that Hwitaek realized he had absolutely _no idea_ what to say.

Leave it to Hwitaek to schedule an awkward dinner date with two other guys he barely knew. Thankfully, he could use the menu as a distraction for a while, even though he already knew exactly what he wanted to order (samgyeopsal, sides of rice and vegetables, and budae jjigae, which he took home for Hyunggu to eat later on). Because of this, his eyes wandered away from the menu in front of him and instead settled on studying Hyojong and Wooseok.

Wooseok had large eyes, naturally gleaming with a bright sheen of excitement, much like Hwitaek would expect from somebody so young. His skin looked soft, bright pink lips contrasted against his slightly toned skin color, and his face was slim, despite Hyojong’s claims about his eating habits. When he caught Hwitaek looking, he shot him a smile like he had in the apartment before, grin wide on his face and eyes crinkling in the corners. He was cute for a kid, Hwitaek thought while looking back down at his menu.

That lasted all of two seconds before he glanced back to Hyojong. Messy locks of blonde hair fell over his eyes with his face downturned to read the menu, and his eyes flickered back and forth between items written on the page before he took a deep breath in and sat back in his seat.

Their eyes met for the second time that day, Hwitaek inhaling sharply as his heart jumped to his throat and he hoped that he didn’t look as flustered as he felt because he was a complete wreck on the inside. He let out a weak laugh, tried to smile for longer than a few seconds even though everything in his body told him to look away and pretend he hadn’t been caught.

But before he could, Hyojong gave him a soft half smile, only there for a second before it disappeared.

 _Oh no,_ Hwitaek thought as his heart skipped again.

And for a moment, Hwitaek wondered if Hyojong could tell how nervous he was just sitting across from him this way.

Their waitress returned and took their orders. Hyojong poked fun at Wooseok’s ridiculously long order, laughed when the youngest whined and called Hyojong mean for treating him like that in front of company.

  
  
  
  


What felt like hours passed since dinner started. Hyojong took it upon himself to grill the pork Hwitaek had ordered, despite Hwitaek’s protests that he was supposed to be the one treating Hyojong, not the other way around. Hyojong just shot him another one of those half-smiles from earlier, making Hwitaek’s mouth drier than a desert as he forced himself to breathe in and out.

Wooseok, despite ordering the most, finished first, and excused himself to use the restroom before they had to head back home. Hyojong took another piece of grilled pork and bit into the tender meat. The smile on Hwitaek’s face unknowingly grew. Hyojong noticed this, his eyes tracing over Hwitaek’s expression before dropping his food to his plate and covering his mouth with his hand.

“Yes?” Hyojong said through a mouthful of food. Hwitaek shook his head so rapidly, his hair fell in front of his eyes. He swept his bangs away with one hand and chuckled softly. “Hey, hyung?”

The way Hyojong called him “hyung” made Hwitaek shiver.

“I’ve already paid for the meal.” Hyojong said easily. Hwitaek squinted suspiciously at Hyojong.

“No way. The waitress hasn’t come back with a bill yet.”

“I gave them my card before we sat down.” Hyojong said, a smile taking over his lips as Hwitaek let out a scoff of disbelief, followed by loud guffaw of laughter. The fluttering of Hwitaek’s heart at Hyojong’s smile sent his pulse into overdrive, face red as flustered giggles escaped his lips.

“You’re unbelievable.” Hwitaek said. “The whole point of this dinner was so I could repay you for your kindness.”

Hyojong shrugged. “Another time.”

  
  
  
  


Hwitaek didn’t process the implication behind Hyojong’s words until after he had gone home and settled down in bed for the night. He pulled his phone out from his pocket and opened up his thread of messages to Hyojong.

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Another time? **(11:02 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** That’s what I said. **(11:03 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** How about next week? **(11:03 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** Whatever works for you. **(11:03 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** No, whatever works for /you/ for once. **(11:03 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** Same time next week, then. Same place? Wooseok said he’d love another dinner date. **(11:04 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Haha tell him I’m looking forward to it too! **(11:04 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** It’s late. Didn’t you say you have work in the morning? **(11:04 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**Hm yeah I did say that, didn’t I? **(11:04 pm)** **  
** But I like talking to you! I like talking to you a lot. **(11:05 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** I like talking to you too. **(11:07 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**For a second there I was worried I had scared you away!  
I should go to bed soon though :’( **(11:08 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** We can keep talking for a while, right? **(11:08 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Sure! As long as you want to! **(11:08 pm)**

Despite the two of them making comments here and there about how late it was getting, Hwitaek found himself caring less and less about the time and more about the subtle nuances in Hyojong’s messages, how the younger seemed to be getting comfortable with him by sending emoticons in his messages after an hour or so, and then the conversation turned light and fun and Hwitaek couldn’t remember the last time he stayed awake to talk to somebody like this. It felt like years, possibly back when he was in high school _maybe,_ but he couldn’t bring himself to care much more than that as he continued texting Hyojong. The two simultaneously sent each other messages at three am, exclaiming, “IT’S THREE IN THE MORNING GOOD NIGHT!” before Hwitaek burst into a fit of giggles.

  
  
  
  


Hyojong let Hwitaek pay for dinner the second time around. Wooseok didn’t seem to care as long as he got to eat to his stomach’s desire.

Hwitaek let Hyojong pay the third time after a small disagreement between the two as to who had been paying more.

And the fourth time went to Hyojong again, and the fifth to Hwitaek, and then it alternated until it was their ninth dinner date and Hwitaek could actually call Hyojong his friend now. On the tenth, Hyojong sat down beside Hwitaek and grinned stupidly wide at him, made an odd noise and earned an equally as weird one from Hwitaek (and Wooseok contributed with some odd noises of his own until one of them snorted with laughter and broke the string of noises). On the eleventh, Hyojong squeezed Hwitaek’s knee after he threw his head back with a laugh when Hwitaek made an awful pun that made Wooseok cringe _(“You like those old dad jokes, hyung, I should’ve known.”)_

All the while, Hwitaek reminded himself to ignore the way his heart sped up faster each time he saw Hyojong. He was happy to see Wooseok too, don’t get him wrong, but the fact remained that when Hwitaek saw Hyojong, it was a different kind of excitement. He couldn’t help smiling until his cheeks hurt, laughing when Hyojong made jokes of his own, replying to Hyojong’s offhand grunts and noises with his own made up foreign tongue until the two buried their faces in their hands and realized just how weird it was for them to be doing that kind of stuff.

It was different because Hwitaek knew how his heart acted when he had a crush on somebody. He knew exactly what it felt like each time his heart lurched in his chest at every simple brush of their knees under the table or when their fingers “accidentally” laced together one too many times for it to be coincidence.

And on the twelfth dinner date, Hwitaek was surprised more than any time he had been before when Hyojong walked into the restaurant alone. Like always, the corners of his lips tugged upwards with a grin as soon as he saw Hwitaek in their usual booth. Instead of sitting beside Hwitaek, he sat across from him (which _totally_ didn’t disappoint Hwitaek, not even in the slightest, he was _completely_ unbothered by the fact that Hyojong didn’t want to sit next to him, obviously, definitely— okay, he was a little bothered) and immediately brushed his foot against Hwitaek’s own, as if knowing Hwitaek’s inner stream of consciousness was telling him he had done something wrong. Maybe Hyojong did know by this point. The two had become so close that Hwitaek wouldn’t have been surprised by that. Besides, Hyojong liked to act like he wasn’t observant, like he had better things to care about than others around him, but was really mindful of Hwitaek’s tics and habits, had caught onto them within the first week or two of spending time together.

“Where’s Wooseok?” Hwitaek asked. Hyojong hummed, lips pressed together in a thin line as he tilted his head to the right.

“He has a final tomorrow, and it’s a huge chunk of his grade, so I told him to stay home and study.” Hyojong said. “It’s his last final before winter break.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that.” Hwitaek said, furrowing his brows and pursing his lips. “I should buy him a present.”

“Why?” Hyojong almost laughed at Hwitaek’s expression of concentration, but stopped himself and instead admired the slight crease of his brows knitted together, how his pink lips puffed out while in deep thought.

“I mean, he’s my friend too. Sort of. I like him!” Hwitaek stuttered out his response with an embarrassed blush dusting the tips of his ears. Hyojong laughed and nudged him under the table, making Hwitaek giggle at the action.

“He likes you too.” Hyojong replied with a sort of contentedness in his voice that made Hwitaek feel at ease and comfortable as he relaxed into his seat. Their usual waitress came up, a grin on her face when she greeted the two of them.

“I can see your other friend isn’t here.” She said between taking their orders. “Is this a special date then?”

Hwitaek blushed bright red at her question, unable to control his embarrassment as he laughed and shook his head. Hyojong didn’t respond other than flickering his gaze to Hwitaek. The way he stared at Hwitaek made him nervous, uneasy, and he wondered if Hyojong was bothered by her question. Hwitaek wouldn’t blame him if he was.

She left without an answer to her question and only their order before Hwitaek nervously glanced up at Hyojong, only to find the blonde had been looking at him the entire time.

“Sorry if that bothered you.” Hwitaek said under his breath. “I... didn’t think we looked like that.”

“Like what?” Hyojong said. Hwitaek lifted his hands in front of him, gesturing vaguely between the two until he sighed and shrugged.

“Like we’re on a date. That’s kind of, um, weird, right?”

Hyojong narrowed his gaze, squinted his eyes at Hwitaek but didn’t say anything. Hwitaek shifted uneasily in his seat, trying to gauge a response from the man in front of him and earning nothing. He nearly apologized again when Hyojong looked away, eyes flickering from the dim light above them to the table separating their bodies. When their waitress came back with plates and bowls for their food, Hwitaek ordered two bottles of soju. Hyojong hardly touched the bottles when they came with their food, didn’t even bat a lash when Hwitaek offered him a glass and shook his head.

Hwitaek’s stomach churned at the thought of Hyojong being disgusted with him, with the idea of the two being out on a date together, so he downed his embarrassment with glass after glass of soju and hoped in the morning he wouldn’t remember.

Halfway through the second bottle of soju and most of their food, Hyojong spoke sharply.

“Why do you drink so much, hyung?”

Hwitaek froze.

“Everybody drinks sometimes, don’t they?” He said, words unknowingly slurring together as he moved to pour himself another drink. Hyojong set his hand on top of the glass, stopping Hwitaek and frowning.

“I asked why you drink _so much.”_ He repeated with force behind his words. Hwitaek furrowed his brows together. “Like that night in the bar. You could hardly walk without tripping over your own feet. You didn’t even remember meeting me that night. Why did you drink so much then?”

“That’s... not your concern.” Hwitaek replied pointedly. Hyojong looked taken aback.

“Not my concern?” The words sounded like venom on Hyojong’s tongue as he spat them out.

Hwitaek bit the inside of his cheek.

“That’s what I said.” Hwitaek said with a bit more force behind his words than he intended. Hyojong frowned, nearly sneering when he spoke next.

“Your safety isn’t my business then?” He said. Hwitaek furrowed his brows.

“You _made_ it your business that night. And I’m safe now, so....” Hwitaek’s heart raced ridiculously fast in his chest when he realized that this was a _fight,_ he was actually _fighting_ with Hyojong.

“I should just let you make stupid decisions.” Hyojong said, though the slight lilt in his voice said it was more of a question than a statement. “Are you an idiot, Lee Hwitaek?”

“I’m not an idiot.” Hwitaek snapped. “And don’t talk to me that way.”

“Like what? Without formality?” Hyojong rolled his eyes. “Maybe I should talk to you like that all the time since you clearly enjoy being reckless.” He crossed his arms in front of him and looked away, clearly disinterested in speaking anymore, but Hwitaek wasn’t.

“You know, if you’re just going to keep insulting me, you can _leave.”_ Hwitaek said.

Hyojong didn’t say anything else, leaning back in his seat as Hwitaek finally poured himself a glass and swallowed it down in one go. When their waitress returned, he ordered another bottle. Hyojong pulled his phone from his pocket and turned his attention away from Hwitaek. Hwitaek wondered why Hyojong didn’t just leave already. It was Hwitaek’s turn to pay anyways. Hyojong could have taken his food in boxes and left Hwitaek alone to feel guilty.

But he didn’t. Instead he sat across from Hwitaek, allowed him to get blackout drunk like he had at the bar all those months ago, like the first time they met.

At the end of the night, Hyojong took Hwitaek back to his apartment, and let Hwitaek sleep in his own bed this time, because he didn’t want to displace Wooseok the night before his important exam.

  
  
  
  


The deja vu of waking up in a strange room for the second time in his life made Hwitaek nauseous. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, pulse thrumming like a bass drum in his ears as he fell off of the side of the bed and searched for something, anything to grab onto and keep the room around him from spinning.

The bedroom door swung open, followed by hesitant, careful footsteps. And then there were hands, hands on his back, rubbing his skin in small circles, tenderly and so soft, Hwitaek thought maybe he was back home with his mother, and she was comforting him. He allowed himself to be lifted off of the floor and carried back to the bed before he willed his eyes to focus on the blonde mess of hair in front of him.

“Hyojong.” Hwitaek managed to croak out. Hyojong nodded. “I.... This happened... again?”

“It’s okay.” Hyojong said.

“No.” Hwitaek tried to push Hyojong away to save him from seeing the mess of a person he was. He was already tearing up, face reddening with embarrassment and anger towards himself. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to see me like this again, I’m sorry.”

“Hyung.” Hyojong said to catch the other’s attention, but only earned a loud sniffle and a sob in response.

“I’m sorry.” Hwitaek repeated, hot tears spilling past his eyes and trickling down his cheeks. He was so embarrassed and so angry at himself so being reckless like that in front of Hyojong. “I’m so _stupid,_ I can’t believe I did that to you again, just—”

 _“_ Hyung _.”_ Hyojong said with more force, but Hwitaek was outright blubbering now, hungover with a headache, half naked on Hyojong’s bed with his blankets lazily strewn over his shoulders, tears streaking his cheeks as he desperately tried to wipe them away and apologize again.

With a frustrated furrow of his brows, Hyojong grabbed onto Hwitaek’s trembling shoulders and squeezed tightly, felt his thundering pulse through his shoulders before leaning forward and pulling him into his arms.

 _“Hui,_ please take a breath.” Hyojong pleaded, felt Hwitaek’s breathing skip as he hiccuped and buried his face in the material of Hyojong’s t-shirt. Apologies spilled from his lips like water trickling through a stream until he gasped softly for breath. Hwitaek hardly even realized Hyojong was whispering against his hair, warm breaths just barely ghosting past his ear as he clenched his fingers around Hyojong’s t-shirt and calmed himself. Hyojong was there, he thought, Hyojong was there in front of him, holding him, talking to him, and his arms felt so warm around Hwitaek that he nearly melted at the touch.

“Hui.”

The name sounded so intimate, like they were already lovers as Hyojong pulled away and swiped his thumbs over Hwitaek’s cheeks, over the mess of tears on his face before leaning his forehead against Hwitaek’s own and letting his eyes flutter shut with a quiet breath of relief. Hwitaek’s eyes were glassy with tears, willing himself to stop crying for a second and just look at Hyojong. Every part of his heart told him to touch Hyojong’s face, his cheek or his jaw, maybe his lips if Hyojong would let him, but even the simple task of blinking made him feel tired.

“You’re freezing.” Hyojong mumbled. “Your clothes are still in the washer, I forgot to move them to the dryer. Let me get you one of my shirts, okay?” He said. Hwitaek nodded.

He rushed to his dresser and pulled out a couple of shirts, a blue one and a black one, held them both up and waited for Hwitaek to vaguely nod towards the black one. Hyojong nervously smiled and returned in front of him, helped Hwitaek tug it on over his shoulders. Shame flooded Hwitaek’s veins at the fact that Hyojong was taking care of him like this again, as if he couldn’t take care of himself when _he_ was the oldest, supposed to be the one who had it all together.

“Can I sit next to you?” Hyojong said. Hwitaek nodded again, this time feeling dizzy when Hyojong moved so suddenly away from him and instead plopped down beside him on the bed. “Are you okay?”

This was much more familiar than the first time they had encountered each other this way. Hwitaek thought last time he definitely had a better grip on himself, wasn’t so worried about how Hyojong saw him hungover considering he didn’t even remember his name, but now Hyojong _knew_ him. They were friends, close friends, so close that Hyojong stayed while Hwitaek drank his stupid sorrows away after overthinking something Hyojong seemed to just brush off and forget about. Hyojong knew Hwitaek so well that he even suspected a reason behind his drinking, and it was... terrifying— almost unsettling to know that Hwitaek allowed someone to grow so comfortable and close with him that he could tell these things with a simple stutter of his voice or shift in his body language.

“You asked why I drink so much sometimes.” Hwitaek started quietly. “The truth is, that night in the bar was the first night I had left my apartment in two... no, three weeks.” He twiddled his fingers in his lap. Sitting beside Hyojong like this made him realize just how small he felt. “I was in a really bad place then. Really... _really_ bad.” Hwitaek emphasized, and Hyojong nodded knowingly. “I told you I didn’t remember anything from that night, but I remember one thing. When I left, I planned on driving home.”

“I know.” Hyojong said with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “I had to take your keys away from you.”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek said weakly, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. “That’s the one thing I remember: wanting to drive myself home. I thought, “Hwitaek, you can’t drive home, that’s not safe,” but... I think a part of me was _hoping_ ... on the way back that I’d just....” _Die_ , Hwitaek almost said the word, but instead, dropped his sentence awkwardly, not wanting to say it out loud, as if saying it would make the situation far more real than he wanted it to be.

Hyojong’s expression didn’t falter in the slightest as he sat in silence, a nod urging Hwitaek to continue. His shoulders rose tensely, all coherent thoughts and words escaping him until he was just talking to escape the bubbling anxiety in his chest.

“Instead you showed up... and you took my keys from me, and— and you brought me here and made me breakfast in the morning.” Hwitaek started crying again, tears spilling from his eyes as he moved to wipe them with the back of his hand. “I went home and I apologized to Hyunggu for ever thinking of leaving him alone, and I called my parents and told them I loved them. And then we started talking, and I really like you, Hyojong-ah, I like you a lot. When we were fighting last night, my anxiety just— it just—”

“It’s okay.” Hyojong said when Hwitaek couldn’t find the words and let out a loud, frustrated groan. “I already forgave you, hyung.”

“I don’t deserve somebody like you.” Hwitaek sniffled.

“Why not?” Hyojong said, cupping Hwitaek’s cheek with the palm of his warm, slightly calloused hand. Hwitaek pressed himself into the warmth of his hand, savored his touch if only for a moment. He couldn’t think of a reason without sounding completely pathetic, without admitting that his heart harbored more than platonic feelings for Hyojong. After last night, he just couldn’t admit to it, no matter how curious Hyojong seemed to be. Hwitaek shook his head, making Hyojong hum in dissatisfaction. “That’s not an answer.”

“I just don’t....” Hwitaek mumbled. Hyojong directed Hwitaek’s attention to him with the gentle nudge of his hand, their eyes meeting between another apology. Hyojong hushed him with a finger on his lips.

“I think you deserve everything.” Hyojong said under his breath. Hwitaek was unused to this openness, the vulnerability from Hyojong strange and foreign, but not unwelcome. “I want to give you everything, hyung. I want to protect you.”

“That’s sweet.” Hwitaek said softly.

“I mean it.” Hyojong pressed, searching for something in Hwitaek’s eyes, pupils dilating as Hwitaek took a deep breath in when he realized just how dangerously close they were.

As Hwitaek parted his lips to speak, Hyojong flickered his eye to his pink lips, aware of the timid movement before Wooseok’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Hyung, it’s time to go, if we wait any longer, I’m going to be late!”

Hyojong let out a loud sigh, hiding his face behind his hands before mumbling, “Okay, be right there,” and letting Hwitaek chuckle at his frazzled state. “Do you have to work today?” Hyojong asked. Hwitaek shook his head, making him smile in response. “Me neither. Stay here?”

“I... shouldn’t.” Hwitaek said, but quickly retracted his comment when he noticed the way Hyojong’s lips twitched with a frown. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

“Don’t force yourself.” Hyojong said while moving to stand up.

“I’m not! I really want to.” Hwitaek readjusted his position on the bed, curling the blankets in on himself and taking a deep breath. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

Hyojong couldn’t help but smile, and Hwitaek swore it was the biggest one he had ever seen Hyojong give him since the first time they met.

  
  
  
  


After dropping Wooseok off so he could take his exam (the brat wasn’t even close to being late, he was just _anxious_ about it), Hyojong made a pit stop by a convenience store to pick up something to eat since he hadn’t had a chance to grocery shop in a week, and he was sure Hwitaek would be starving by the time he made it back. For extra measure, he grabbed a bottle of aspirin and two gallons of water just in case Hwitaek needed them.

He ran upstairs with his groceries in tow, keys hanging past his lips as he struggled to press his code in and unlock his apartment door. After a moment, it swung open easily, and he kicked it open, only to find another person standing at his fridge, messing with the food (or lack thereof) before standing up and placing their hands on their hips.

“There better be food in those bags!” Changgu said with a grin.

“Changgu, how did you even figure out my code?” Hyojong said in exasperation, setting the water and bags of groceries down on the dinner table with a sigh. Changgu greedily came up beside him, hands darting for the first bag he saw with food in it before Hyojong slapped his hand away.

“Rude!” Changgu pouted. “I’m starving, hyung. Is that really all the food in your fridge? Have you been eating right?”

“Why don’t you go home and eat your own food?” Hyojong said. “And I just haven’t been grocery shopping yet, don’t freak out.”

“Hongseok’s really been on my ass lately, I got mad and left without eating breakfast.” Changgu explained. “Actually, him and Jinho both, I’ve tried being as unnoticeable as possible, but they really like to get on me for little stuff I forget to do.”

“You’re always welcome to come back.” Hyojong said. Changgu plopped down at one of the seats around the dinner table, munching on a handful of chocolate chips he had snagged from the fridge.

“Thanks, hyung, but I’ve been thinking about rooming with somebody else. You remember Yannie?”

“Yannie?” Hyojong furrowed his brows. “Yan An?”

“Yeah! He’s back from China, and he said he wants to be my roommate. We’ve been looking at places lately.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice—”

As Hyojong was speaking, his bedroom door opened, followed by quiet footsteps plodding out to the dining room. Hwitaek appeared with Hyojong’s ridiculously long shirt on, rubbing his eyes before blinking the sleep away and smiling at Hyojong. Only did he falter when he noticed another person sitting at the dinner table, Changgu’s hand lifted to his lips as the handful of chocolate chips fell from the palm of his hand and he grinned cheekily. Hyojong immediately lifted a hand to shut him up, but Changgu had already started from his seat, circling Hwitaek like a predator stalking its prey. Hwitaek tensed, pointed a finger towards Changgu and glanced at Hyojong.

“He’s like a pest.” Hyojong said. “If you don’t pay attention to him, he’ll leave.”

“Who is _this?”_ Changgu clapped Hwitaek on the shoulder, making the older jump.

“He’s my _friend.”_ Hyojong barely hesitated in answering, though the way Changgu smirked said he took the word as anything but what it meant. “Hui— er, Hwitaek, this is the neighborhood scavenger, Yeo Changgu. Changgu, this is my friend, Hwitaek.”

“I’m not a scavenger.” Changgu said, eyeing Hwitaek carefully. “I used to be Hyojong’s roommate.”

“Before Wooseok?” Hwitaek said.

“No, Wooseok was here, I just slept on the couch.” Changgu hummed. “Nice to meet you, Hwitaek-ssi.”

“Likewise.” Hwitaek said. Changgu noticed the pointed glares Hyojong was sending his way, lips pursed in annoyance before he lifted his hands in front of him and stepped away.

“All right, all right, I get it.” Changgu said, walking back to the front door and grabbing the keys to his car from the key rack. “But you’re explaining yourself to all of us soon.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” Hyojong deadpanned. Changgu opened the front door and leaned against the door frame.

“Be safe!” He shouted just as Hyojong yelled at him and moved to slam the door shut. Hwitaek smiled, an apparent blush on his cheeks from being stared at so intensely as Hyojong huffed and turned towards him.

“Sorry, he really is a pest. Most of the time, he’s a sweet kid though. Don’t mind him much. Anyway, I bought food, and some aspirin in case you have a headache. How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.” Hwitaek said, pulling Hyojong’s shirt closer to his body when the chill of the apartment nipped at the tips of his fingers. “A little cold, but I’ll live.”

“Wooseok and I try not to use the heater, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Hwitaek repressed a yawn. “Thank you for the aspirin.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” Hyojong waved it off easily, unloading the few groceries he had bought, parting his lips to speak. Before he could get a word out, he froze and looked down at his arm, where Hwitaek had slid his warm hand across the top of his arm and squeezed affectionately. Hyojong swallowed heavily, eyes darting up to find Hwitaek close, eyes settling on the cupid’s bow of his lips and the way the light shined off of them as he languidly licked his bottom lip.

“I want to.” Hwitaek said. “So thank you.”

Hyojong held back his urge to pull Hwitaek into his arms and hold him, squeeze him, _kiss him_ until they were dizzy and desperate for air and instead let his eyes trace over his rosy cheeks painted with an embarrassed blush when he let his hand drop back to his side, and the two settled into a comfortable pace of cooking up the cheap food Hyojong had bought. Hwitaek brewed some coffee, and they sat down on the couch together, feet barely brushing as they sat on opposite sides of the couch and gave each other childish grins each time their eyes met during the commercial breaks of whatever TV show Hyojong had turned on.

  
  
  
  


Hwitaek and Hyojong were back to normal, mostly. Hwitaek took less caution when it came to his fluttering heartbeat each time he was around Hyojong, didn’t try so hard to hide his flushed face or embarrassed stutters when Hyojong caught him off guard. He had even invited Hyojong and Wooseok over to his own shared apartment with Hyunggu, though Hyunggu had classes late into the evening, so they only met him for a split second before he had left. It was hardly any different than spending time at Hyojong’s and Wooseok’s, only that Hwitaek had more channels to watch, and he had Netflix, and the wifi was much faster than it was at Hyojong’s, and there was homemade food in the fridge, and Hwitaek had full control over the thermostat and how hot and cold it was, and—

Okay, it was drastically different, _but_ Hyojong and Wooseok hardly seemed to mind as they lounged on the L-couch in the living room and watched some cartoons together. As they mindlessly hummed and groaned, Hwitaek had moved to the kitchen to warm up some food in the oven for them. He was in the process of putting it into the oven when he heard a loud screech from the living room, and then another, higher pitched scream, followed by shrill yells and crashes before Hyojong came scrambling into the kitchen.

Hwitaek had dropped the pan of food on the kitchen floor, a splattered mess of meat and marinade on the ground as he sighed and rubbed his forehead. Wooseok came running into the kitchen with a loud shriek only a second after Hyojong. Hwitaek crossed his arms in front of him and turned to the two loud, panting messes before Hyojong burst into laughter, doubled over and braced his hands on his knees. His body trembled with each giggle punched out of him until he was red-faced and crying from how hard he was laughing. Wooseok let out a few nervous laughs, but seemed more focused on the mess on the floor, which he took to cleaning up only a few seconds after Hwitaek had dropped to his knees to clean up the mess.

Eventually Hyojong ended up on the floor from laughing so hard, catching his breath and staring up at Hwitaek while he cleaned his mess. Hwitaek stopped and frowned.

“Care to explain why you screamed like a banshee?”

“There was a _big_ ass spider.” Hyojong said. Wooseok nodded.

“A spider? Really, that’s it?” Hwitaek groaned with dissatisfaction. “I can’t believe you two lost it over a harmless spider.”

“No, this thing was _hairy_ and _gross.”_ Wooseok said.

“So are you, Seok-ah.” Hyojong snorted.

“Wow, did I ask?” Wooseok said, flicking some of the marinade towards Hyojong, who sputtered through it and laughed when Hwitaek chided the both of them.

“Well.... We can always order pizza?” Hwitaek said helplessly.

“Yeah!” Hyojong and Wooseok shouted at the same time, though they were already arguing over who would pay since they made Hwitaek drop the food he spent so long making. Eventually Wooseok won and called the pizza company, absconding to Hwitaek’s bedroom for silence as Hyojong leaned against the dinner table and watched Hwitaek load dishes in the dishwasher.

“Hey.” Hyojong said. Hwitaek glanced over his shoulder, hummed in response to let him know he was listening. “Thank you for inviting us over.”

“Thank you for coming.” Hwitaek replied with a smile thrown over his shoulder. “Really, it’s nice to have other people over besides Hyunggu’s friends for once. And, y’know,” Hwitaek smiled teasingly, “maybe I _kinda_ enjoy having you and Wooseok over. Only a little.”

“Oh, only a little?” Hyojong laughed and pushed himself off of the dining table and made his way to the sink beside Hwitaek.

“Barely.” Hwitaek snickered. “It’s more like pity.”

“We’re such pitiable people after all.” Hyojong pinched Hwitaek’s side, making the older yelp with laughter and a snort through his nose before he moved to cover his nose with his hand as Hyojong went wide eyed.

“You snorted.”

“I did not!” Hwitaek said defensively, washing his hands off and drying them on his jeans before storming away from Hyojong. Hyojong jabbed at Hwitaek’s sides, the older releasing another snort of laughter and hastily slapping his hand over his nose.

“You snort when you laugh!” Hyojong beamed.

“I do not!” Hwitaek whined now, running to his mess of a living room to clean up the mess the other two had left behind, but found himself being manhandled and thrown down on the couch instead. Hyojong jumped on him, pinned his hands above his head as a nervous bout of laughter left Hwitaek’s lips. “W-what are you doing, Hyojong-ah?”

“Nothing yet.” Hyojong taunted. Hwitaek tried to wiggle his hand out of Hyojong’s grip, only to find that Hyojong was ridiculously strong, held his hands even tighter. His free hand slid down Hwitaek’s sides, fingers barely grazing over his stomach before Hwitaek giggled and pressed his lips together in a thin line to keep the laughter at bay. “How ticklish are you, hyung?”

“I’m not ticklish at aaaa _aaaaah, Hyojong,_ don’t tickle me!” Hwitaek gasped for breath as soon as Hyojong darted his hand for his sides and pressed into his skin, wiggled his fingers and earned loud fits and snorts of laughter from Hwitaek, who desperately tried to curl up and find a way to escape Hyojong’s relentless tickle torture. Hyojong pulled his hand away and let Hwitaek catch his breath, a huge smile on his face as he leaned forward.

“Not ticklish at all?” Hyojong said, shaking his head as blonde locks of hair framed his face as he straddled Hwitaek’s body. “Look at how cute you are, hyung, all pink faced from laughing.”

Hwitaek resisted the urge to comment that he wasn’t _just_ red faced from laughter, but from their compromising position. Hyojong and Hwitaek both snapped to attention when they heard Wooseok clear his throat from the hall, waving his phone in his hand and asking for the address, because he had forgotten it already. Hwitaek was quick to scramble to his feet, handing Wooseok an envelope with his address on it. Hyojong sat back on the couch with a satisfied grin on his face, Hwitaek blushing even darker.

“Shut up.” Hwitaek said, sticking his tongue out and looking for some way to distract himself from Hyojong and how happy he looked after tickling Hwitaek and sending him into a frenzy.

“I didn’t say anything, hyung.”

“But you were thinking something, and that’s enough.”

Hyojong grinned and pushed himself off of the couch to follow Hwitaek into the kitchen and tease him even more.

  
  
  
  


Hyunggu was the first to catch on.

Hwitaek had invited Hyojong over for dinner on his night off, and Wooseok said he didn’t feel like showing up this time, so the two sat in the living room, sharing ramen and watching a movie per Hwitaek’s suggestion. Hyojong didn’t seem particularly interested in it, instead asked questions about the plot while Hwitaek hushed him and tried to watch in relative silence, only for it to be broken a second later by Hyojong’s grunts of annoyance or little weird noises he just let slip here and there. And of course Hwitaek indulged him in said weird noises, maybe let out a few of his own in response because Hyojong always played along with him when they ended up speaking this odd foreign tongue to one another until one of them erupted into a fit of laughter.

Hyunggu walked into the apartment after a long study session, let his eyes wander from Hwitaek, then to Hyojong, who waved and covered his mouth full of food to welcome him back to the apartment. Hyunggu didn’t say anything at the time, only nodded and threw his stuff into his bedroom before taking a long, hot shower.

It wasn’t until two days later, while Hwitaek was cooking dinner, that Hyunggu dared to bring it up.

“Are you dating him?”

Hwitaek had lifted a spoonful of sauce to his lips, only to sputter through it and choke on the spices.

“W-what?” Hwitaek squeaked out after recovering from his coughing fit. “Dating who?”

“That blonde guy. Hyojong?” Hyunggu tapped his fingers against the dinner table. “You can tell me if you are, I’m not going to be grossed out or anything.”

“We... we aren’t dating.” Hwitaek said. Hyunggu cleared his throat.

“Do you like him?”

Hwitaek tensed visibly, trying so hard to appear casual, even though Hyunggu knew him well, immediately noticed his closed off nature and let out a hum.

“No, I don’t.” Hwitaek steadied his voice long enough to deny it, but the hesitation and apprehension he showed before answering told Hyunggu otherwise.

Still, Hyunggu accepted it as an answer, didn’t dare bring it up again because Hwitaek would really get upset if he did. They ate dinner in relative silence, other than Hyunggu talking about Christmas and how he was headed home to visit his folks for a few days. Hwitaek didn’t mind having the apartment all to himself for a few hours at a time, but for the most part, he didn’t like being alone. Being alone meant thinking about _things_ too deeply, and as of late, he was doing everything in his ability to avoid exactly that.

Hwitaek washed the dishes and returned to his room to sulk in his own embarrassment that somebody had caught onto his feelings for Hyojong and it wasn’t Hyojong who caught on.

His phone buzzed beside his head, a notification popping up from Hyojong as he swiped it open.

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Do you have plans for Christmas? **(6:36 pm)**

Hwitaek bit his bottom lip and typed a message back.

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** No, my family is busy this year.... :( Do you? **(6:37 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Yeah, I’m inviting a bunch of our friends over for a gift swap. **(6:37 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** That sounds really nice! **(6:38 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** You’re one of those friends, you know ;) **(6:39 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** !! But I wouldn’t know what to get for anybody unless it was you for Wooseok.... **(6:39 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Are you busy tomorrow night at 6:00? We’re actually drawing the names tomorrow, so you can come over and get to know everybody. **(6:40 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**Tomorrow?? I don’t think I’m doing anything after work! **(6:40 pm)** **  
** I’d love to~♡ **(6:41 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Actually what time do you get off of work? :o **(6:41 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** 4:30 **(6:41 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Would you mind maybe coming over early? **(6:42 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Sure, I can be there by 5:00-ish! Why early though? **(6:42 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
**Just because I like having you over. Also once everyone else is all here, I won’t be able to talk to you.... :/ **(6:43 pm)** **  
** Indulge me in my selfish reasons? **(6:44 pm)**

Hwitaek’s heart stuttered, a smile blooming on his lips as he buried his face in his pillow and squeezed his phone tightly to his chest. Hyojong sent him another worried message, concerned he had scared Hwitaek off by being so forward, but Hwitaek was quick to respond and reassure him that no, he hadn’t scared him off, and yes, he was completely willing to indulge Hyojong in his “selfish” (see: endearing) reason for wanting him over early.

  
  
  
  


Hyojong’s apartment always carried a sort of comfort to it that Hwitaek couldn’t quite put his finger on. Despite the shabby wallpaper and less-than-impressive flooring of the apartment, and the fact that their apartment complex was in a sketchy neighborhood that Hwitaek _never_ would have entered on his own accord before meeting them, it was homelike, cozy, _warm_ (even though Hyojong and Wooseok didn’t use their heater during the winter season).

That was why it was so odd for Hwitaek to walk up to the apartment, knock, and hear yelling from the other side of the door. Entering Hyojong’s code in the keypad (knocking was really just a courtesy at this point), the door clicked and unlocked. He reached out for the doorknob, opened it without waiting for somebody to answer, and found Wooseok and Hyojong in a standoff in the living room. Wooseok’s tall body towered over Hyojong, but Hyojong had his chest puffed slightly, clearly not intimidated by Wooseok’s tactics. Hwitaek took an experimental step back, but found neither Hyojong or Wooseok had noticed him yet. So he stayed, watched as Wooseok sneered.

“You always coddle me like some little kid. Some of that money is mine too, you know.” Wooseok said.

“You _just_ turned 18, Wooseok. And yeah, some of that money is yours, but not all the money you loaned him was _yours,_ and even if it was, you know we need it for bills, gas, _food!”_ Hyojong said, practically yelling at a volume Hwitaek had never heard before. “I trusted you to be responsible, and you lied right to my face. Do you know how stupid I felt going to the bank and telling them about this? They said you waltzed right in there and took the money out of the account in front of them. I looked like an idiot!”

“I didn’t lie, I was going to get it back, okay? He told me he’s going to pay me back, and I trust him, hyung, so I just wasn’t planning on telling you—”

“That’s lying!” Hyojong clapped his hands together. “What part of me calling you a fucking liar aren’t you getting?”

“I’m not a liar.” Wooseok said firmly, stepping forward and knocking his chest against Hyojong’s braced hands in front of him. “Stop calling me a liar.”

“What should I call you then? A thief? A disappointment?”

“Oh, a disappointment? I’m a disappointment?” Wooseok shoved Hyojong, nearly knocking him off of his balance as Hwitaek instinctively rushed forward to Hyojong’s side, helped steady him on his feet before Hyojong shook his head and narrowed his angry gaze towards Wooseok once more. “Stop acting like you’re my fucking dad. You’re just my roommate because it’s _convenient_ for me.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the closest thing you have to any sort of family, you ungrateful brat.” Hyojong spoke hastily, tone full of venom and loathing, before he noticed the way Wooseok’s eyes widened, glossed over with tears as he shook his head. “Wooseok, wait, that sounded—”

“I just wanted to be like you, Hyojong.” Wooseok spoke without formality, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes before he shook his head. “And fuck you for bringing that up. Fuck you.” Wooseok spat, rushing out of the apartment and slamming the door shut behind him. Hwitaek watched Hyojong desperately run after him, stopping at the apartment door when he heard Wooseok curse him again and run downstairs instead of waiting for the elevator. Then he stood against the frame of the door, leaned his head on it and sighed heavily.

Hwitaek moved from his spot in the living room, words escaping him as he tried to figure out what to do in this sort of situation. He lifted his hands, let his fingers curve around Hyojong’s shoulders before he squeezed. Hyojong flinched at the contact as he quickly apologized. With the shake of his head, Hwitaek pulled Hyojong closer, until they were hugging, and Hyojong leaned his forehead on Hwitaek’s shoulder. His body relaxed into the hug while Hwitaek ran his hands down his back, thumbs moving in small, comforting circles. Hyojong couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, but he was crying now, into Hwitaek’s shirt and silently begging for forgiveness, though Hwitaek hardly seemed upset or angry with him.

“It’s so cold out.” Hyojong sniffled. “And he left without a jacket, he’s going to get pneumonia and I-I don’t want him to get sick, what if he—”

“Shh, Jongie.” Hwitaek whispered against Hyojong’s messy blonde hair. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs some time to decompress.”

“I can’t believe I said that.” Hyojong said incredulously. “I can’t believe I called him a thief. I’ve never done that. I’ve never called him a disappointment, he’s never been a disappointment to me.”

Hwitaek moved Hyojong from the doorway to the couch within a few seconds, rushed back to close the door and returned to Hyojong’s side as they sunk side by side on the couch. Hwitaek crossed his leg underneath him, turned his body to face Hyojong as the blonde hid his face behind his hands and cried quietly. Hwitaek pulled his hands from his face, instead, used his own thumbs to swipe the streaks of hot tears away from Hyojong’s face as he mumbled something about looking ugly.

“Trust me, Hyojongie, I’ve seen you pull some really ugly faces. This doesn’t even measure up.” Hwitaek joked as Hyojong let out a half-bitter chuckle and nodded, sniffling and wiping his nose with the back of his arm. Hwitaek’s expression softened at the childlike gesture, eyes tracing over Hyojong’s tired features, the way his eyebrows were creased with frustration and the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced in the low lighting of the living room.

For a split second, Hwitaek was reminded of just how young Hyojong was, how Hyojong seemed to be mature beyond his years, and yet at the same time, much like someone who never had a chance to be a kid and goof around without a care in the world. His shirts were always two sizes too big, so his sleeves hung over his arms and looked like he was positively drowning in the material of his shirts, but at the same time, he helped Wooseok with his homework, bopped him on the head with one of his too-long sleeves when he got the answer wrong, and gave him praise when he got it right. He did the dishes, washed their laundry, kept the place clean, and if he couldn’t do those things, he asked Wooseok to if he had time (but if he didn’t, that was all right, Hyojong would just get around to it). He screeched and screamed and played around, but at the end of the night, he was always the one to shake Wooseok awake from the couch and nudge him towards his bedroom, covered Wooseok up with his blankets (and his bed sheet that he insisted on sleeping with) before escaping to his own bed and passing out without changing out of his clothes.

“I should go out there and look for him.” Hyojong whispered. Hwitaek immediately shook his head.

“He’s still angry. Even if you find him, you’ll both just end up butting heads again. Take a second to think it over.”

“I can’t just leave him alone out there.” Hyojong argued, but his words were weak, like he knew Wooseok didn’t want to see him, but admitting it hurt just too much.

“If you want, I can look for him.” Hwitaek offered. Hyojong denied the offer after a moment of apprehension.

“I don’t want you to be burdened with our problems. And... truthfully, I’d like it if you stayed here with me.” Hyojong blurted the last part quickly, cheeks light pink with embarrassment as Hwitaek cooed and pinched his cheek.

“Your problems are never a burden to me.” Hwitaek assured, pulled Hyojong down to his chest and hugged him as tightly as he possibly could.

Hyojong started crying again, Hwitaek could feel his tears soaking into his shirt as he squeezed Hwitaek’s thigh and buried his face closer and closer to Hwitaek’s neck until Hwitaek could feel Hyojong’s warm breaths ghosting his skin. Hwitaek ran his fingers through Hyojong’s hair, surprisingly soft considering the fact that it was bleached blonde. Hyojong melted into his arms as soon as Hwitaek started humming, felt the vibrations of his voice in his chest as he squeezed closer and allowed himself to finally sob into Hwitaek’s chest.

And then Hwitaek started singing, voice soft and low as he parted his lips and carded his fingers through Hyojong’s hair again, earned a low breath of relief as Hwitaek continued singing some song Hyojong had never heard before, but loved hearing spill past his lips.

“You okay?” Hwitaek said after ending his song. Hyojong shook his head, but squeezed his fingers around Hwitaek, as if that explained what he was feeling. Hwitaek gave him a gentle smile and laid Hyojong down on the couch, resting his head in his lap as he continued moving his fingers through his hair. Hyojong seemed to liked it as his eyes fluttered shut, and he groaned low and long in his chest. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

Hyojong shifted on his lap, furrowing his brows and moving his hand until he found Hwitaek’s both tangled in his hair. He tugged one of Hwitaek’s hands out of his hair, laced their fingers together and savored the warmth of the spaces between his fingers with a faint blush dusting the apples of his cheeks. Hwitaek smiled down at him and traced his fingers over Hyojong’s jawline, down his chin, just underneath his bottom lip before experimentally brushing his thumb against Hyojong’s pink bottom lip, bitten and worried with concern for Wooseok. Hyojong’s hot breath leaked past his lips and over Hwitaek’s thumb, the two frozen for what felt like a lifetime until Hyojong started talking.

“Wooseok lent one of his friends a lot of money.” Hyojong confessed. “We have a joint bank account to pay for bills and food, but he took money out, more money than he had earned... and loaned it to his friend.”

“Oh.” Hwitaek said, unsure of what to respond with other than shock that Wooseok had done something so reckless, and without Hyojong’s permission, no less.

“We need that money for food, and gas for the car, and I haven’t even paid this month’s rent yet.” Hyojong began to stress, but Hwitaek moved his hand through his hair, scratched at his scalp and earned a hum of contentment. “And he didn’t even tell me beforehand, so when I saw there was this huge withdrawal, I went to the bank, and they just laughed at me, like I was an idiot for not knowing this would happen with a joint account. Wooseok didn’t even think it was a big deal, to loan out that much money. He didn’t even _ask._ If this friend of his was having such a hard time, he could’ve come over here for a while, I don’t mind housing people like that, but he just— he just gave it away!”

“I know.” Hwitaek said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what the worst part of it is?” Hyojong said, voice particularly weak as it cracked in the middle of his sentence. Hwitaek shook his head. “He said he did it just because he wanted to be like me. I.... I yelled at him when I probably would have done the same thing in his situation. I called him a thief because he loaned out some money I could earn back in a few days of overtime. I’m so stupid.”

“Hyojong.... You were forced to grow up at a young age, weren’t you?”

Hyojong’s lack of an answer said Hwitaek was right.

“Let me tell you, then, that one of the best parts of being an immature, angsty teenager is allowing yourself to be upset without thinking you’re childish for it.” Hwitaek brushed Hyojong’s hair away from his face, cupped his cheeks and smiled down at him. “So let yourself be angry for a while. I’m here.”

“I’m just....” Hyojong trailed off, nuzzled his face into the warmth of Hwitaek’s open palm. “I’m angry with myself more than I am with Wooseok. I said something really fucked up.”

“Calling him a thief?” Hwitaek supplied. Hyojong shook his head. “What was it then?”

“When he said I wasn’t his father,” Hyojong paused, “and I said I’m the closest thing he has to family. That was so fucking awful, I don’t know why I said it.”

“Why _did_ you say it?” Hwitaek queried. “I mean, why was that even part of your argument?”

Hyojong pursed his lips, eyes searching for something in Hwitaek’s own before he spoke. “I never told you why Wooseok and I live together, did I?”

“No.” Hwitaek said. “I assumed you two were just roommates.... Was I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong in that sense.” Hyojong said. “Wooseok used to be my neighbor when we were kids. His family was kind and loving, I adored them.” Hyojong spoke dreamily, gaze drifting towards the ceiling as if he could see them in front of his eyes. “And I ran away from my home a lot to spend time at Wooseok’s instead. Even though there’s a four year gap between Wooseok and I, we got along well because he liked to pretend to take care of me and stuff.” Hyojong waved towards his cheeks. “I have a few scars on my cheek from when my dad used to... y’know.”

“O-oh.” Hwitaek stuttered out, eyes widening with shock. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Hyojong said, but the way he gritted his teeth showed it wasn’t, so Hwitaek moved on without asking another question. “It’s just the way things were. My mother— bless her soul— managed to leave my father and get a divorce, but she lost custody because the courts saw her as an unfit parent for a young boy, and unfortunately she had no proof that my father abused us. So they left me with my dad and his girlfriend. She didn’t like me either.” Hyojong gestured vaguely towards his arm, Hwitaek darting his gaze to his arm and finding a few dark, circular marks on his skin. His jaw went slack, Hyojong snorting out a bitter laugh and moving to pinch Hwitaek’s cheek. “Don’t look so shocked.”

“They did this kind of stuff to you?” Hwitaek said, eyes still stuck on the scars on Hyojong’s arms, what appeared to be cigarette burns.

“Yeah, they did. And after they did, I ran away to Wooseok’s house and stayed with them until my dad came beating the door down to take me back. I think if Wooseok’s dad wasn’t worried for his own family, he would’ve knocked my dad in the dirt. He almost did a few times.” Hyojong smiled as if the memories came flooding back. “We were close up until I turned sixteen. We kind of disconnected because of the age gap, and Wooseok had school to focus on.” Hyojong flushed slightly and looked away from Hwitaek. “And my dad kicked me out of the house after I turned sixteen.”

“Are you serious? Why?”

“He said I was a burden after I came out.”

“Came out? Of what?”

Hyojong laughed. “The closet, dummy. You _do_ know I’m not straight, right?”

It was Hwitaek’s turn to blush as he stuttered. “Ah. Right. No, I didn’t assume that you weren’t... straight.”

“Does it bother you?” Hyojong quipped. Hwitaek quickly shook his head. “It’s okay if it does.”

“No!” Hwitaek said, then stifled his shock and shook his head once more. “I m-mean... it really doesn’t bother me, Hyojong.”

“Well... it bothered my dad. Bothered him a whole lot. And I refused to live with my mother after he kicked me out. If he found out where I was staying, he would find her and me, and I didn’t want to put her in danger like that again. So I stayed with a friend of mine until I got a job, saved up enough money and got a really shitty apartment. It was _awful,_ like even worse than this one. Barely a studio.” Hyojong explained with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Hwitaek was almost amazed that Hyojong had the ability to smile and grin like that after everything that had happened. “Wooseok and I lost touch for a few months. I was juggling work and school, and he was so focused on his studies, I didn’t want to burden him with my problems.

“But... a few months after I got my apartment... er, Wooseok’s family... they got into an accident.” Hyojong gauged Hwitaek’s expression for a response, so Hwitaek nodded to let him know he was listening. “And his parents died. And his sister a few days later... she did too.”

“Oh my god.” Hwitaek said softly. Hyojong nodded with a sad frown.

“His grandparents wanted to take him, but they live out in the country, so he would’ve had to change schools, and they barely had enough money to pay for their own expenses.... So... I just went over to his house when he was moving out and I offered to take him in. He was so excited, hyung. I wish I had a picture of the smile on his face when I offered. His grandparents were cautious because I was only sixteen at the time, but I told them I’d take care of him as if he were my own kid. They were really desperate to keep him in school here, and even more because a growing kid was an expense they couldn’t afford. Technically, they had custody over him, but Wooseok stayed with me. I had to drop out of school and start working two jobs to pay for our bills, and especially for his food, but I didn’t mind dropping out for him.

“Anyway, I’ve been taking care of him since. He got a part time job when he turned fourteen, and we saved up to get this place. As much of a garbage heap this apartment is compared to yours, we love it.”

“Hey.” Hwitaek warned, pinching Hyojong’s face between his fingers and shaking his head. “Don’t you call this place a garbage heap.”

“It’s not exactly beautiful Seoul apartment style in here.”

“Your apartment is full of love, Hyojong.” Hwitaek said seriously. “I’d rather spend time here than at my own any day.”

“Hm.... You know what kind of people say that stuff?” Hyojong said. Hwitaek quirked a brow. “People with money.”

“Hyojong, when you’re over at my place, you make it... cozier, more comfortable than it's ever been the entire time I’ve lived there with Hyunggu. So call me entitled all you want. I still think the loving atmosphere is better.”

“Maybe it is.” Hyojong sighed. “But... yeah, when I said that _thing_ to Wooseok... that’s why he started crying. I can’t believe I said it. I’ve never held any of it against him. Dropping out of school, working long hours, giving him my food instead of eating most nights, I’ve... never held a grudge against him for any of those things. I love him, hyung. He’s my little brother. What kind of a brother says something so ugly?”

Hwitaek cupped Hyojong’s cheek again. “He won’t hold it against you, Hyojongie. You’re just worried.” Hwitaek looked up  to the window. “Oh, it’s snowing.”

“I hope he’s safe.” Hyojong mumbled. “If he gets sick after this, I won’t forgive myself.”

“He’ll be okay, Hyojong.” Hwitaek said. “Do you still want to do this gift exchange thing? You really don’t have to after what happened.”

“Ah, I can’t just cancel on the rest of them like that. You’re right. Wooseok will be back later. I should finish cleaning up the apartment.”

Hwitaek pursed his lips, refused to let Hyojong get up from his lap as he squeezed Hyojong’s fingers tightly.

“You know, I don’t think your friends will mind if you don’t clean up the apartment before they show up.” Hwitaek said, lifting Hyojong’s hand to his lips and kissing the back of it as Hyojong flushed darkly and stumbled over his words. “Stay with me. You know, once everybody is over here, I won’t be able to talk to you as much, so indulge me in my selfish reasons?”

Hyojong smirked at Hwitaek, who quoted him practically word for word before reaching up and pinching Hwitaek’s cheek.

“How many times did you read that message last night, if you memorized it so well?”

Hwitaek’s heart skipped and he smiled wider. “Maybe just a few times.”

  
  
  
  


As soon as Hyojong’s friends all came over, they immediately pulled out bottles and glasses for soju, sat down in the living room with a hat in the middle of the floor where they pulled names from a hat. Hwitaek ended up getting Changgu, the young man he had met before, who grinned and waved at him from across the circle. Hyojong chose Yan An on purpose, because apparently they hadn’t known Changgu was going to bring him to the party, but didn’t mind. Yan An looked awkward and nervous sitting beside Changgu, mumbling in his ear every now and again before glancing warily at the others in the circle. Hyojong gave him more than one comforting grin through the night, but Yan An appeared guilty in a way, because each time Hyojong smiled, he averted his gaze to the ground and didn’t look up until he was sure Hyojong was distracted.

To say Hyojong’s friends were fun would have been an understatement. They were loud and rowdy, liked to drink way too fast and yell jokes at each other. Even Hyojong took a few drinks of soju before calling Jinho a name and earning a loud chorus of laughter from the rest of them. Hwitaek opted not to drink this time around.

As the night was underway, Hwitaek noticed Hyojong was worrying less and less about Wooseok, and having more fun with his friends. Hwitaek didn’t even need to squeeze his hand every now and again to earn a smile from Hyojong, because the blonde looked back at him multiple times and smiled at him without prompts.

A knock at the door made them all start, Hongseok pushing himself off of the floor and rushing to the front door to expect Wooseok, since he was the only one missing from their small gathering. Instead, they found a tall, dark figure, broad shouldered, eyes searching for somebody else as he furrowed his brows and pulled away to ensure he had the right apartment number.

“Er, I’m looking for Hyojong-hyung?” He spoke with a very slight accent to his words, voice deep and intimidating as Hongseok waved him in and closed the door. They all looked up, Hyojong letting out a small noise of surprise as soon as he saw the tall figure, and moved to stand up.

“Yuto, have you seen Wooseok?” Hyojong said. Yuto nodded solemnly. “Is he okay?”

“He’s at my place right now, feeling really guilty about everything.” Yuto explained. “Uhm... here.” Yuto reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of bills as the others let out a whistle of awe. Hyojong shut them up with a glare, flickering his eyes back up to Yuto, who frowned and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “If I had known Wooseok was stealing this money, I never would have accepted it. I can’t accept it now either. Please take it back.”

Hyojong didn’t move to take the money. He just stared at it like it was offending him, and pushed it back into Yuto’s chest.

“Hyung please, I’ll feel better if you take it back. This is yours. I didn’t even ask Wooseok for money, he just gave it to me. I... didn’t realize he had taken it without talking to you about it.”

“Keep it.” Hyojong said. “You need it, don’t you?”

“I can’t keep it.” Yuto insisted, reaching his hand out again towards Hyojong. “This is your money.”

“And now it’s yours.” Hyojong said. “Accept it from Wooseok, or accept it from me. Either way, this is your money now.”

“I....” Yuto squeezed his fingers around the bills in his hand, eyes glossed over with tears before he sniffled and nodded. “A-are you sure?”

“Aish, stop crying, you big softie.” Hyojong said, pulling a tissue out of the box beside him and handing it to Yuto, who let out a quiet laugh and wiped his eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry at Wooseok for what happened in the first place. No, he shouldn’t have taken the money out without telling me first, but if I had known your situation, I probably would have done the same thing. So he was right in giving it to you. It would be an insult to Wooseok if you tried to give it back now, so keep it.” Hyojong faked a grimace and flicked Yuto’s forehead. “Besides, I kind of like you. You’re a good friend to Wooseok.”

Hyojong excused himself from the apartment, walking out with Yuto as the rest of them returned to their festivities, only the conversational topic had changed.

“Ah, he’s too generous sometimes.” Changgu sighed. “That looked like a lot of money he was giving that kid. He’s too nice.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you were the one that needed that money.” Hongseok said. “If anything, he was being too nice when he housed you for two years.”

“I never said I wasn’t a burden.” Changgu replied easily. “All I’m saying is that now he’s going to have to work more hours to make up for that money.”

“He’s housed most of us in this room at some point or another. Maybe we should chip in and see if we can give him some of the money back.” Jinho said after taking another shot of soju. “I’m hungry. Who’s buying?”

“Definitely not Hyojong-hyung.” Changgu said before Yan An leaned to his side and spoke against his ear. Changgu darted his gaze over to Hwitaek. “Oh, that’s right! Is Hyojong housing you too? I forgot to ask last time, I was so convinced you two were dating or something.”

“Me?” Hwitaek poked himself in the chest.

“Yeah, you.” Changgu said. “Is he housing you right now?”

“No.... You mean, do I live here? No, I have my own apartment.” Hwitaek said as Changgu nodded easily, and Yan An’s eyes lingered on Hwitaek’s expression for a second longer. “Did Hyojong house you?”

“Yeah!” Changgu nodded.

“Me too.” Jinho said.

“And me.” Hongseok chimed in.

“...me also.” Yan An finally spoke for the first time.

“I know he’s housed Yuto once before too, a couple years ago or something.” Changgu waved his hand vaguely. “And, well, technically he’s been housing Wooseok since he was twelve, but they’ve been friends for so long, it’s more like family.”

“Did he tell you about Wooseok?” Jinho asked. Hwitaek nodded quickly. “Sad story, but Hyojong was right there to take care of him. My family and I actually took care of Hyojong when he r— er, when his dad kicked him out. He told you about that too, right?” Jinho said to Hwitaek, who nodded once more. “Yeah. His dad was a royal prick. I should’ve kicked his ass when I was younger.”

“You were the one he stayed with when he got kicked out?” Hwitaek clarified. Jinho nodded.

“Yeah, my family didn’t mind having him around, and he brought in a lot of money too. My mom never asked him for rent, but he paid for bills sometimes, and even bought groceries.”

“Jinho and I ran away from home and stayed with Hyojong for a while. He never made us pay for rent or food or anything, no matter how hard we tried.” Hongseok explained with a slight frown. “I would still love to pay him back for everything, but he vehemently refuses our money.”

“Hyojong-hyung took me in off of the streets.” Changgu spoke up. “My parents kicked me out when I was really young. I remember when he asked me if I wanted to come inside and get cleaned up, I was like, “This guy is going to murder me, he’s probably a serial killer.”” Changgu made the others laugh as he grinned in embarrassment. “But he fed me and gave me spare clothes. When I tried to leave, he told me he couldn’t let me go with a clear conscience if I was going to go sleep on the streets again, so he let me crash on the couch,” Changgu counted on his fingers, “for a week. When I was getting ready to leave again, he told me he had found a place hiring for part time workers. I applied, got a job, got back in school... and I stayed with him for two years. He completely turned my life around.” Changgu pointed at Jinho and Hongseok. “Now I’m roommates with _this_ married couple.”

“We aren’t a couple!” Jinho and Hongseok exclaimed at the same time before both of their faces flushed beet red.

“See what I mean?” Changgu gestured towards them and smiled at Hwitaek. “But Yannie and I are gonna find an apartment together, right?” Changgu directed his question to the young boy beside him, who almost flinched at the sudden conversation, but nodded easily and smiled for a split second. “Yan An is from China, Hyojong housed him too.”

“Jeez, is there anybody he doesn’t house?” Hwitaek said.

“It’s just his thing.” Jinho explained. “Taking care of people. It’s almost like Hyojong promised to be everything his father couldn’t be to him, which is so rare to see. Most people follow the same footsteps, but he’s never so much as raised his voice at me.”

“He’s yelled at me once or twice.” Changgu pouted.

“Everybody wants to yell at you once or twice.” Hongseok snorted, and Changgu picked up his shoe to throw at him. “It really is just in his nature to be giving. I think his mother must have been a saint. Mother Mary, or something like that.”

“Yeah, Hyojong even took Yan An in when he didn’t have to. Yan An lived with some piece of shit host family, and Hyojong took him in because I _asked._ He really is too nice for his own good.” Changgu said.

“Hyojong... did all that?” Hwitaek said. All of them nodded collectively, Jinho about to speak again when Hyojong walked in with snow in his hair, shivering slightly as he closed the door.

“You all talking shit about me? I can hear you all saying my name out there.” He joked, to which Hongseok laughed.

“Of course we are! If we didn’t that would mean we _like_ you or something.”

Hyojong joined the circle again, none of them bothering to ask what happened to Yuto or the money he tried to give back, and— well, it was probably because they all just _knew_ that Hyojong insisted he keep it, refused to take it back, and sent him back home. Hwitaek was curious as to what had happened to Wooseok, if he was planning on coming back that night or not, but lost his train of thought when the others got up to order food and left Hyojong alone with him.

Hyojong sat beside Hwitaek on the couch, knuckles white from how tightly he gripped the cushion beneath him. Hwitaek let his gaze linger on Hyojong’s slightly pallid lips, eyes tracing over the shape of his cupid’s bow and the dips and curves before flickering them up and finding Hyojong looking back at him. He parted his lips to apologize for staring when Hyojong leaned forward, caught Hwitaek off guard when their lips pressed together. Hwitaek’s eyes widened, Hyojong’s own fluttered shut as he carefully, as if handling the most delicate porcelain, cupped Hwitaek’s cheek with his cold hand.

When Hyojong pulled away, he bit his bottom lip, an apologetic look on his face as he took his hand off of Hwitaek and instead placed it on his own thigh.

“Sorry.” He said softly. “I just wanted to do that since you kissed the back of my hand. Don’t think anything of— _mmph!”_

Hwitaek jumped forward and kissed Hyojong, their teeth knocking together in a completely awkward way, but Hyojong smiled into the kiss nevertheless and pressed closer, his lips soft and warm now that Hwitaek was kissing him.

“Should I still not think anything of it?” Hwitaek said when they parted for breath. Hyojong pursed his lips and quirked a brow.

“Hm, that depends. If I say yes, are you gonna kiss me again?”

“I’m going to kiss you again regardless.” Hwitaek giggled.

“Then no, you should think something of it. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” Hyojong said, Hwitaek capturing his lips between his own again as his hands moved to Hyojong’s shoulders and squeezed.

“Oh!” Changgu exclaimed from the kitchen. “I knew it, I knew they were dating. You all lost the bet!”

“What?!” Jinho said, though Hongseok shouted at him to shut up as he ordered their food on the phone. “Man, what the hell, Hyojong?! You said you would tell me when you started dating someone! Here I was thinking about setting you up with one of my friends, but _no,_ you’ve already got someone—”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Hyojong said in embarrassment from the couch, Hwitaek quickly moving away from him and burying his face in his hands.

“No need to be so embarrassed now, we already saw, y’know, everything.” Changgu laughed. Even Yan An managed a few giggles from beside him. “There’s no mistletoe above your heads, sucking face like that was just unnecessary.”

“Excuse me for a second.” Hyojong said to Hwitaek, who nodded and watched Hyojong rush into the kitchen to get Changgu in a headlock. The younger squealed with laughter, trying to wiggle himself out of his grip as Hongseok hissed once again for them to shut up.

Hwitaek’s heart skipped in his chest as soon as Hyojong shoved Changgu away with a loud laugh and met his gaze. Hyojong immediately smiled at him, and that smile was just a little different from all the past ones he had given Hwitaek before. There was something discernible in it, like love and warmth and comfort all in one single movement of his lips.

  
  
  
  


At the end of the night, after saying goodbye to the rest of them and ensuring they wouldn’t be driving (Hyojong called two cabs, even though they were all going back to Jinho’s and Hongseok’s place), Hyojong and Hwitaek kissed again. Hyojong had Hwitaek tucked between his body and the wall, hands on either of his hips, squeezing circles into his skin as Hwitaek relaxed, practically turned into putty in Hyojong’s hands. Hyojong moved his hands to the back of Hwitaek’s neck and ran his fingers through his dark hair.

“I have to go, you know.” Hwitaek hummed as Hyojong sighed and nodded, pressed warm, wet kisses to Hwitaek’s throat instead as he laced his fingers in with Hyojong’s blonde hair.

“Keep pulling my hair like that and I won’t let you leave.” Hyojong said with a smile against his skin. But Hyojong reluctantly pulled himself away from Hwitaek after pecking his lips one last time. “Another time?”

Hwitaek grinned. “Another time. Are you sure you’re going to be okay being here alone for the night?”

“Yeah.” Hyojong nodded. “Yuto said he’d bring Wooseok over tomorrow, so... I’m going to think about how to apologize to him.”

“That’s a good idea.” Hwitaek hummed. “Well.... I’ll see you soon?”

“I would hope so.” Hyojong laughed awkwardly. “Okay, just out of sheer selfishness and to appease my anxiety... you did want to kiss me earlier, r-right? I didn’t pressure you to kiss me? You can tell me if I did. I just don’t want things to get weird after this, I don’t want you to think I’m weird or something, I still want you to be my friend more than anything else, so... so....”

“Ah, Hyojongie, you’re so cute.” Hwitaek pressed a chaste kiss to Hyojong’s cheek. “I kissed you because I wanted to, not because you pressured me.”

“Are you sure?”

Hwitaek leaned in and kissed Hyojong again, felt Hyojong shiver under his touch as he pulled away with a tender smile on his lips.

“I’m sure.”

Hyojong nodded, words escaping him as he resisted the urge to pull Hwitaek back to the couch to kiss him there again, and maybe back to the hallway, to kiss him there, and back in his bedroom, to kiss him there, because as much as he desperately wanted Hwitaek, his heart told him to be patient and wait. What he felt for Hwitaek was something more than simple sexual attraction, something that made his insides flutter with butterflies and bubbles and something warm like honey and cinnamon, and _god,_ he couldn’t remember feeling this way in such a long time.

“I’m actually going to leave this time.” Hwitaek said, made Hyojong laugh nervously and nod while standing in the doorway. “Good night.”

“Yeah. Good night.”

He couldn’t count on one hand how many times he and Hwitaek had said good night, and yet, this time it felt different.

Hyojong went to bed after saying goodbye to Hwitaek and cleaning up the mess the others had left on the living room floor. As he picked up glasses of soju and empty bottles littering the floor, he found a single piece of paper sitting on his living room table. Curiously, Hyojong turned it over in his hands, found it was a check from Hwitaek with a short message scribbled in the memo section.

_“From all the people with money.”_

And then Hyojong’s phone went off with a notification, tugging it from his pocket and finding another message from Hwitaek.

 **Hui the chief ❤❤❤:** **  
** Whenever you find the gift I left for you, promise me you won’t try to give it back. **(10:21 pm)**

Hyojong smiled wide, his entire body warm with affection as he glanced down at the check again and bit his lip.

 **Hyojong:** **  
** How can I ever repay you? **(10:23 pm)**

 **Hui the chief ❤❤❤:** **  
** You don’t, that’s the point of a gift! **(10:24 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** Let me do something for you, at least.... **❤** **(10:24 pm)**

 **Hui the chief ❤❤❤:** **  
** Hm.... Maybe a date? I used to have a set dinner date with a really hot guy every week, but he’s been so busy lately.... ;* **(10:25 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** You’re so greasy, hyung! **(10:25 pm)**

 **Hui the chief ❤❤❤:** **  
** Hehehe, I know. Let me know when you have a free day, I really do miss going out with you~ **(10:26 pm)**

 **Hyojong:** **  
** I get my new schedule tomorrow, I’ll text you as soon as I know my days off. **(10:26 pm)**

 **Hui the chief ❤❤❤:**  
You better! ♡ Now I’ve really gotta go. Good night! **(10:27 pm)**

  
  
  
  


Evidently, Hyojong’s days-off didn’t coincide with Hwitaek’s own for three weeks, the two resigning themselves to seeing one another after long days of work and falling asleep on the couch while watching some boring TV show and holding hands. Hwitaek couldn’t count on one hand how many times Wooseok had shaken the two of them awake and told Hwitaek he could stay over if he wanted (like a parent giving their child permission or something like that— Hwitaek always blushed afterwards and said he’d be heading home, much to Hyojong’s dismay).

Wooseok’s and Hyojong’s relationship was slowly returning to normal. Hyojong was much more careful when he spoke to Wooseok, didn’t reply on instinct like he used to out of fear he’d say something wrong or end up getting too comfortable too fast with Wooseok again. Hwitaek found himself in the middle of it more than a few times, when Hyojong could excuse himself to the bathroom, and Wooseok would whine and complain about how Hyojong was treating him like a delicate flower _(“Does he think I’m a baby? I’m not a baby!” “Wooseok, I don’t think he’s treating you like a baby, he’s just scared.”)_ , and again in the middle of it when Wooseok would leave to study, only for Hyojong to start huffing and sighing about how things felt out of place _(“Maybe this is just how things are now....” “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and act normally with him again!”)._

Wooseok excused himself after dinner and said he wanted to go out with Yuto for the rest of the night, so Hyojong nodded and watched him leave with a quiet sigh. Hwitaek reached over and cupped Hyojong’s cheek, warmth of his palm spreading across Hyojong’s cold skin before he sighed and shook his head.

“He’s still not comfortable with me, I just know it.” Hyojong mumbled. “I’m tired. Do you want to go lie down with me?”

“In bed?” Hwitaek squeaked. Hyojong didn’t seem to notice the hesitation in Hwitaek’s voice, which he was silently thankful for. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ want that kind of thing, because he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it a few nights while lying in bed, but Hyojong said it so nonchalantly that it just threw Hwitaek off.

“Yeah.” Hyojong rose from his seat, picking up their plates and setting them down in the sink. “I’ll wash dishes later, I need a nap or something. Do you have to go home soon?”

“N-no, I don’t.”

“Okay.” Hyojong glanced over his shoulder at Hwitaek. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek rushed out, voice two octaves too high to be considered normal, but Hyojong accepted it and closed the fridge after putting away the leftovers. He walked past Hwitaek, down the hall to his bedroom as Hwitaek shyly followed him. Closing the door, Hwitaek turned to find Hyojong halfway through stripping his shirt off and throwing it in the general direction of his laundry basket as Hwitaek let out a noise of shock and forced himself to tear his gaze away from the dark tattoos Hyojong had littered over his back. He never mentioned _those_ before.

Hyojong grabbed a tank top from his dresser, slipping it on and then shucking his pants off, leaving him only in his boxers as he slid under his covers. Hwitaek apprehensively lifted the covers, to which Hyojong laughed.

“You’re wearing jeans.” He pointed out. Hwitaek looked down at himself. Oh. Right. He was. Carefully, he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his legs, suddenly self-conscious when he felt Hyojong’s gaze on his body. After kicking his jeans all the way off, he shifted to hide himself, quickly slipping under the covers.

Hwitaek relaxed after a moment of steady breathing, Hyojong clearly not moving to do anything too risque with Hwitaek in bed. Hyojong’s free hand settled on Hwitaek’s waist, squeezed affectionately, but his eyes had fluttered shut, and he took a long, deep breath in, like he really was planning on taking a nap.

Maybe he really could relax, Hwitaek thought. He sighed, melted into the soft pillows and blankets beneath him. The window in Hyojong’s room revealed little of Seoul’s city skyline behind the blackout curtains, snow falling in small tufts and landing on the windowsill. It must have been so cold outside, but it was warm and cozy underneath Hyojong’s duvet. He was drowning in the scent of Hyojong’s body wash that he liked to use, because he didn’t wear a lot of cologne, and he didn’t need it anyways. Hwitaek lifted the duvet to his nose, took a deep breath in as he dropped his boundaries. Hyojong’s thumb rubbed small circles into his skin, but the blonde was falling deeper and deeper into sleep before he peeked one eye open at Hwitaek.

“You thought I was trying to have sex with you, didn’t you?” Hyojong said. Hwitaek jumped at his quiet voice.

“Uh, what?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong parted his lips to repeat himself, but Hwitaek lifted his hand. “I heard you, never mind. Er, I didn’t think that.”

“You _do_ know I’m not an idiot, right?” Hyojong teased. Hwitaek blushed brightly.

“I know! I didn’t think you were an idiot, I just— Well, I was just—” Hwitaek stuttered and stumbled over his sentence a few more times before he sighed and hid his face in the comforter, while Hyojong lazily tugged at them with a few giggles leaving his lips. When he finally pulled the blankets away from Hwitaek’s face, he inched closer on the bed, face just near Hwitaek’s own. “Okay, yeah. I thought you wanted something like... like sex. So I just got a little....”

“Scared?” Hyojong prompted.

“Not scared. Maybe. I don’t think I’m scared of you. I mean, I’m not scared of you, I mean having sex with you. What I’m trying to say is I’m not scared of being with you— I’m just, just—”

“Hui.” Hyojong said, Hwitaek immediately silencing himself. “We don’t have to talk about it if it’s just making you anxious like this. I’m not going to pressure you.”

“It’s not making me anxious.” Hwitaek said, to which Hyojong shot him a look of disbelief. “Seriously, talking about having sex makes me... less anxious, I think.” Hwitaek let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “I just needed a second.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek said. Hyojong pushed himself up on his arms, eyes studying Hwitaek carefully before he leaned his chin in the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind talking about stuff.”

“Okay.” Hyojong said, though it sounded like he had more to say, so Hwitaek waited until Hyojong spoke again. “Have you ever dated a guy?”

“I thought we were talking about sex.”

“That was my nice way of asking if you’ve ever fucked a dude before, but I can say it crudely too.” Hyojong said, a smile appearing on his face as Hwitaek flushed in embarrassment and laughed, his own toothy grin tugging on the corners of his lips. “So have you?”

“No.” Hwitaek answered after taking a second. “I’ve never even dated another guy.”

“You ever date a girl?” Hyojong asked. Hwitaek nodded easily. “It’s like that, only it’s a dude, and it’s completely different.”

“Gee.” Hwitaek deadpanned as Hyojong burst into a fit of laughter again. “Thanks for your words of wisdom.”

“Really though, it isn’t all that big of a deal. And sex is just... sex? I guess?” Hyojong pouted as if in deep thought. “Hm. I’ve never had to explain it before... and I can’t compare it to being with a woman. They’re nothing alike.”

Hwitaek pushed himself up on his elbows. “If sex is just sex, how is it different?”

“Well, for example,” Hyojong made some grand gesture with his hands, “in our relationship,” he gestured between himself and Hwitaek, “there is a pole instead of a hole.”

“Oh my _god!”_ Hwitaek screeched with laughter, taking one of Hyojong’s throw pillows and hitting him square in the face with it as Hyojong doubled over, giggles spilling past his lips until Hwitaek pushed him down on his back, moved to straddle him and sit back on his hips. Hyojong hummed appreciatively. “Most of the time when I was with girls... they did this.”

“Do you like that?” Hyojong said, not teasing as much as he was before. “When they’re on top?”

“I think so.” Hwitaek nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Interesting.” Hyojong said, which most definitely wasn’t what Hwitaek wanted to hear when he admitted something like that. Maybe a short thanks or some praise for coming out of his comfort zone, but not just “interesting”. That made it sound like Hyojong was researching or something, like a professor collecting data on a new subject. He was uncomfortable for a split second.

Before Hwitaek could show it, Hyojong flipped him back on the bed, his head falling onto a soft pillow as Hyojong lifted Hwitaek’s leg over his shoulder and slotted himself between his legs. Hwitaek blushed beet red, face ridiculously hot and mind spinning from how quickly and suddenly the atmosphere changed. He could feel every part of Hyojong’s lower half. He even felt Hyojong’s eyes scanning over his thin body, now uncovered from the duvet and sheets and left bare for Hyojong to appreciatively take in. His shirt rode up over his hips, revealing his hips and his stomach, belly button just barely revealed along with the patch of hair leading down into his boxers. Hyojong rocked his hips just to catch Hwitaek’s attention.

“I like this.” Hyojong said.

Internally, Hwitaek was losing it over the sudden shift and _fuck,_ he definitely couldn’t do this position with Hyojong so suddenly, how could Hyojong even suggest he would bottom after Hwitaek had just admitted he had never been with another man? Hwitaek parted his lips to speak as Hyojong ducked down and kissed him, lips wet and soft, pliant as Hwitaek let out a shuddered breath when they pulled apart.

There was no way Hyojong could have prepared Hwitaek for what he was about to say.

“Except I like being the one on my back.” Hyojong whispered against Hwitaek’s lips, making him whimper, then heatedly flush. Hwitaek’s mind went numb, voice lost in his chest, eyes glazed over with a sudden rush of lust as Hyojong kissed him again. He kissed back without realizing it, fingers tangling with Hyojong’s hair and pulling lightly. Hyojong let out a soft, frustrated breath when Hwitaek did it again, this time a little harder than he had before. “I like that too.” He admitted breathily. “I like it when you pull my hair.”

“Wait.” Hwitaek said, Hyojong sitting up and helping Hwitaek push his leg off of his shoulder. Then Hwitaek carefully took Hyojong by his shoulders, laid him down on the bed gently, and put himself in the same position Hyojong had been in a moment ago. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay, definitely okay.” Hyojong echoed, hair fanned out behind him as Hwitaek lifted his leg over his shoulder and tucked himself against Hyojong. A soft noise left Hyojong, something like a whine and a moan mixed together, and _oh,_ Hwitaek liked that. He rolled his hips against Hyojong, barely clothed bodies rubbing together as Hyojong repeated the noise and his back barely arched off of the bed. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Did I hurt you?” Hwitaek moved Hyojong’s leg off of his shoulder, leaned in close as Hyojong shook his head. He was blushing. Hyojong was _blushing,_ Hwitaek thought with a cut off whimper.

“If you keep going, I’m gonna get hard.” Hyojong mumbled. “I don’t want to rush you into doing something you don’t want.”

“Whatever you want.” Hwitaek said. Hyojong shook his head.

“No, it’s not like that in this situation.” Hyojong said, pushing Hwitaek’s bangs off of his face and peppering kisses over his cheeks. “Any other time I’d say fine, but it’s not whatever I want, it’s whatever _we_ want.”

“I want this.” Hwitaek pressed. “Do... do you...?”

“Yes.” Hyojong breathed. “I do.”

“Then?” Hwitaek said, a sudden burst of confidence making him smile down at Hyojong like he actually knew what he was doing. Hyojong playfully rolled his eyes, pulling Hwitaek down to kiss him. They hardly noticed the bedroom door opening, followed by Changgu’s loud yells and the door slamming shut.

“Gross, Hyojong-hyung!” Changgu shouted behind the door. “You could’ve locked your door at least!”

“It’s _my_ apartment!” Hyojong shouted after Hwitaek pulled himself off and buried his face in the pillows, vowing to never show his face for as long as he lived. It would be permanently red from how embarrassed he was now. Hyojong swung the door open, found Changgu blushing in the living room with his arms over his chest. “What do you want, you little gremlin?”

“Gremlin? I’ll have you know I came over... because Yan An and I had a fight.” Changgu said.

“Are you serious?” Hyojong puffed, sweeping his hands through his hair and throwing them down at his sides. “Couldn’t you bother Jinho and Hongseok with this stuff?”

“They took his side.” Changgu said, sitting down on the couch and crossing his legs underneath him. “I went over to vent and they told me I was overreacting and to get over it. I just need somebody to listen to me and tell me I’m not overreacting.”

“You probably _are_ overreacting.” Hyojong said, cutting the rest of his sentence short as he felt Hwitaek’s arms slide over his chest, warm and comforting as Hwitaek pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, just above his tattoo.

“Hear him out, hm?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong pouted more, clearly unconvinced by the small gesture of affection. “I’ll brew some tea.”

“Ugh.” Hyojong said as Hwitaek pecked a kiss on his lips and walked into the kitchen after giving Changgu a small wave. Changgu jutted a thumb towards Hwitaek in the kitchen, waggling his brows as Hyojong threatened to throw whatever was nearest at him if he didn’t shut up. “You’re lucky Hui wants to listen to your annoying ass.”

“Was the sex that bad, Hwitaek-hyung?” Changgu shot towards the kitchen, to which a loud crashing sound resounded through the apartment, followed by a hiss from Hwitaek.

“Dropped the kettle on my toe, I’m totally fine though!”

  
  
  
  


Hwitaek stared at his phone for a solid twenty minutes after ending the call with his mother.

She set him up with a “nice young girl” in Seoul, a friend of the family that she was sure he would like.

Hwitaek didn’t deny her request.

He accepted the date, and was set to go on it in a week.

As he sat with his eyes glued to the screen, he wondered exactly what the hell he had just done when his phone buzzed with a notification.

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Are you still coming over? **(4:45 pm)**

Dumbly, Hwitaek nodded. Then he lifted his hand to his forehead, smacking himself for doing something so stupid and texting Hyojong back that he’d be there in twenty minutes, that he had gotten stuck in traffic or some other lie. Truthfully, he had been on his way out of the apartment when his mother called and let him know about the date, and— well, he couldn’t just ignore his mother’s calls, nor could he deny her request to go on this date and “start looking for women,” because apparently he wasn’t getting any younger and the young women would start marrying old if he waited too long. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the last girl he had been with was a short fling when he just barely turned twenty.

It was just _one_ date, and besides, it gave him a brief moment of familiarity. Dating with Hyojong was amazing, and yeah, he really liked him, and maybe once or twice he thought about saying he _loved_ him, but they were both... men. And dating in public and doing things together just felt weird in a way that Hwitaek couldn’t really describe. Taboo, almost. Hyojong never seemed to mind, but he said multiple times that he had been out for a long time, and he didn’t expect Hwitaek to be comfortable in the same way that he was.

So just _one_ date wasn’t so bad.

Telling himself that, Hwitaek left the apartment for the second time and drove to Hyojong’s.

  
  
  
  


Hyojong, for the first time in his entire life, prayed that Wooseok didn’t come home early that night.

Most nights he stayed out with Yuto and spent time with the other until it was well past 10:00 pm, per his “rebellious” phase that Hwitaek mentioned he was probably going through after their argument. Hyojong didn’t yell at Wooseok for it, because he figured if he did, he’d cause a bigger rift in their already-strained-relationship, and that was the last thing he needed.

Most nights, Hyojong wished Wooseok would come home and joke around with him the way they had before.

But he supposed there was something good coming from Wooseok’s rebellious late nights with Yuto.

How it started, neither Hyojong nor Hwitaek could say. Just that Hwitaek was focused on watching TV when Hyojong’s hand settled on his thigh, squeezing and rubbing appreciative circles into the skin before Hwitaek relaxed into the couch and found his pulse racing, quickening to a dangerous pace. Hyojong hummed something about going to get something to drink. Willing himself to calm down, Hwitaek crossed and uncrossed his legs more than once, only to stifle groans in the back of his throat from the friction of his jeans. Hyojong returned with a cup of strawberry milk, offered some to Hwitaek who quickly denied it and focused his attention on the television.

Hyojong’s hand landed on Hwitaek’s thigh once again, absentmindedly running his fingers just along the inseam of Hwitaek’s pants and making him take a deep breath in to regain his composure. Hyojong noticed, glanced at Hwitaek from the corner of his eye and asked if he was okay. Hwitaek let out a squeak of an answer too quickly for it to be natural, and Hyojong turned to him, hand still on his thigh, and furrowed his brows.

“You sure you’re okay?” Hyojong quipped. Hwitaek nodded again, this time faster than he had before.

But... well, Hyojong told Hwitaek when he wanted something serious, when he was turned on last time in bed, and Hwitaek didn’t even bat a lash. So—

“Just— just that... your hand.....” Hwitaek found himself scared to say much more than a few words at a time, Hyojong glancing down at his hand and sliding it off of Hwitaek.

“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?”

“N-no, not that.” Hwitaek shook his head. Hyojong squinted his eyes at Hwitaek, a knowing smile appearing on his face before licked his bottom lip.

“What was it, then?”

“You already know.” Hwitaek huffed. “Don’t make me say it.”

“But I want to hear you say it.”

Hwitaek worried his bottom lip, biting down and squirming on the couch before he gave in with a loud sigh and grabbed Hyojong’s hand. Without thinking about what he was doing, he slid Hyojong’s hand between his thighs, just high enough to brush against him through his jeans as he moaned softly. Hyojong’s eyes widened, pupils dilated to an unreal amount before he moved his hand closer, palmed him through his jeans. Hwitaek whimpered louder this time.

“Y-your bedroom?” Hwitaek prompted. Hyojong shook his head. “Then, where— _ah!_ Right here— right here on the couch, Hyojong? The door, what if somebody walks in—”

“Don’t worry.” Hyojong said, moving to unbutton Hwitaek’s jeans, then unzipping them and pushing them just barely over his hips. Hwitaek inhaled sharply when Hyojong slid his fingers underneath the band of his boxers, fingers grazing through his pubic hair. Every touch felt hot, exponentially warmer than it had been just a few seconds before as Hyojong’s fingers brushed against him under his boxers. “Is this okay?” Hyojong asked.

Hwitaek, too far gone to think again about the possibility of Wooseok coming in or somebody else walking in on them (Changgu was still fighting with Yan An, Hwitaek remembered, he could bust through the front door at any given moment), nodded before Hyojong pulled his hand from his boxers.

“Hold on.” Hyojong placated Hwitaek after letting out a long, petulant whine in protest of the loss of warmth, rushing to his bedroom and quickly returning with a bottle in his hands. Hwitaek didn’t have to ask what it was when Hyojong popped the cap and spread a generous amount of lube on the palm of his hands, all the way to his fingers, warming it up in the process of doing so.

Hwitaek pushed his boxers down just enough to keep the lube from spilling on his clothes as Hyojong kept his eyes on Hwitaek’s expression, settling down beside him and gradually taking his half-hard cock into his hand. Hwitaek’s jaw went slack, moans tumbling past his lips as soon as Hyojong wrapped his fingers near the base of his cock, pumping once to gauge a response from Hwitaek.

The sensation of Hyojong’s hands on him partnered with the lewd squelching sounds of lube left Hwitaek moaning shamelessly into the air, hips barely rolling off of the couch and into Hyojong’s warm hand. A smile tugged at the corners of Hyojong’s lips, full of affection and adoration as Hwitaek flushed and pulled Hyojong into a messy kiss, all teeth and nicked lips, until Hyojong slid his tongue across Hwitaek’s bottom lip and savored the warmth of Hwitaek’s mouth. Hwitaek moaned particularly hard when Hyojong jerked his hand a certain way, fingers twisting around him and sending shivers throughout Hwitaek’s body.

“You’re loud.” Hyojong commented, leaning in to kiss and nip at Hwitaek’s bare throat. When Hwitaek parted his lips to speak, to mention that it was embarrassing for Hyojong to say something like that, another moan spilled from his lips instead, as Hyojong’s thumbs rubbed circles at the sensitive spot on the underside of his cock.

“F-fuck, Hyojong.” Hwitaek managed to whimper.

“Tell me more things you like.” Hyojong said, though it was more of a plea than it was an order. Hwitaek bit down on his bottom lip, stifled a moan as Hyojong slowed his movements. “Hui.”

“When you talk.” Hwitaek panted helplessly. “I like it when you talk.”

“About?”

“You know what about.” Hwitaek said stubbornly. Hyojong jerked his wrist particularly quick, made Hwitaek hiss through his teeth.

“The weather?” He teased, and Hwitaek released a long, frustrated groan from the back of his throat before throwing his arm over his reddening face and hiding. With Hwitaek clearly resigned to avoiding answering Hyojong’s question, Hyojong pumped Hwitaek again, tantalizingly slow, before he let out a soft breath against Hyojong’s earlobe. “You’re so warm in my hand, Hui.”

Another long whine escaped Hwitaek’s throat, hips rolling fully off of the couch and into Hyojong’s warm hand.

“Look at how much you’re leaking already.” Hyojong continued, Hwitaek’s mind going fuzzy as he listened to each and every teasingly sweet word leave Hyojong’s lips. “All over my fingers. Look at yourself.” Hyojong’s free (and dry) hand slid down Hwitaek’s arm, gently pushing it away from his face. Then he directed Hwitaek’s gaze down, to his hard cock where precum spilled from the tip and slid down the sides, mixing with the lube Hyojong had poured earlier as he keened and shook his head. “What is it, Hui?”

“G-gonna come if I look, gonna come too fast.” Hwitaek warned. Hyojong’s fingers tightened at the base of his cock experimentally. That tore a groan from Hwitaek as he lifted his hand to his mouth and bit down.

“Let me.” Hyojong said, pulling Hwitaek’s hand away from his mouth and replacing it with his fingers. Hwitaek let his tongue slip between Hyojong’s fingers, tracing every curve and dip and savoring the taste of him on his tongue. “Naughty Hui, keeping this stuff from me. If I had known you liked this, I would’ve done it sooner.”

Noises stifled by Hyojong’s fingers in his mouth, Hwitaek writhed on the couch, legs spread as far as his jeans would allow him before Hyojong bit down on his collarbone, teeth marking his skin in beautiful hues of red and scarlet when he pulled away. Distantly, Hwitaek worried about the marks he would undoubtedly leave on Hwitaek’s body when they were done, in obvious places he couldn’t hide at work or even at home with Hyunggu, who was sure to throw him a few judgmental looks _(“You’re into that stuff, hyung?”)_.

The pace was so agonizing, so slow, Hwitaek thought maybe Hyojong was messing with him, just trying to tease him about getting hard, but the determination painted on Hyojong’s expression stopped him from being too upset about it. Prickles of pleasure rippled through his body in waves, from the beginning of Hyojong’s strokes at the base of his cock, all the way to the head, where Hyojong dipped his thumb past the slit and into the precum spurting out more and more after each stroke.

“I want you to come in my hand, Hui.” Hyojong whispered huskily against his ear, teeth grazing the cartilage of his ear before Hwitaek yelped, the heat in the pit of his stomach flooding his veins all at once as he came in Hyojong’s hand, spilling on his stomach in slow spurts before he exhaled and relaxed on the couch.

Hyojong’s hand moved slower now, pads of his fingers sending jolts of pleasure through Hwitaek’s body before he finally pulled his hand off and grabbed the tissue box on the coffee table in front of them. After cleaning his own hand off, he used the tissue to clean up Hwitaek’s stomach, Hwitaek tiredly tugging his boxers back up after tucking himself in them and then moving to button his jeans.

Hyojong quirked his lips with a sheepish half-smile. “Was that okay?”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek breathed out. “Okay. That was... more than okay.” Hwitaek pushed himself off of the back of the couch on his elbows. “C’mere.”

Hyojong easily leaned in, allowed Hwitaek to tangle his fingers in with his hair and roughly kiss him, all the while struggling to hide his own hardness in his sweatpants. Hwitaek pushed Hyojong back on the couch, sliding his tongue past Hyojong’s parted lips and savoring the faint taste of strawberry on his palette.

“Bedroom?” Hyojong said this time. Hwitaek squinted his eyes at him.

“Why should you get the bed when I had the couch?” He teased. Hyojong let out a weak chuckle, unconvincing and insecure before he shrugged. “Kim Hyojong... do you have a thing for getting caught by other people?”

“No.” Hyojong replied stubbornly, a pout on his lips as Hwitaek grinned.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I-I don’t.” Hyojong said. “Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“So it’s fine if anybody else catches us together when you’re touching me, but when I want to touch, it’s not?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong worried his bottom lip. “That’s hardly fair. I think you should be subject to the same torture.”

“Torture?” Hyojong said. “Wait, did you not like it?”

“It’s a joke.” Hwitaek hushed the blonde with a chaste kiss. “I’m gonna use my mouth, ‘kay?”

Hyojong blushed dark red, cheeks heated. “Don’t force yourself.”

“I’m not. I want to.”

  
  
  
  


“You’re going to get caught.” Hyunggu sang from the kitchen.

“Caught doing what? I’m not doing anything bad.” Hwitaek huffed, finished knotting his tie around his neck and walking to slip his shoes on.

“Aren’t you the one that said you’re dating Hyojong? Pretty sure you’re that exact roommate of mine that said those words, “I’m dating Hyojong now,” and then you giggled like a little girl.” Hyunggu said.

“Look, it’s just a date to keep my mom happy. She wants me to start dating, and I can’t just tell her about Hyojong, so I have to do this to get her off of my back.”

Hyunggu let out a dissatisfied hum from the other side of the apartment. “Sure it is.”

“You can act like I’m lying all you want, but I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s a simple date with a girl who doesn’t even know me. That’s it.”

Hyunggu appeared in the doorway to their kitchen, hand on his hip as he leaned against it. “Answer a question for me then, will you, hyung?”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek said confidently.

“If it’s just a little fling to placate your mother, then I’m sure you’ve told Hyojong-hyung about it, right?” Hyunggu’s nose scrunched up a little as he spoke, knowing he was completely right in suspecting Hwitaek of lying to Hyojong when Hwitaek froze and swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing slightly before he shook his head. “That’s what I thought. Face it, hyung. You’re doing this for some awful reason.”

“It’s not awful.” Hwitaek said defensively. “And I’m not doing it for any other reason. It’s just for my mom, I swear.”

Hyunggu didn’t say anything else, disappeared in the kitchen again to finish making dinner as Hwitaek snatched up his wallet and keys before disappearing from the apartment and starting downstairs. His phone buzzed with a message, from nobody else but Hyojong.

 **Hyojong ♡:**  
Can’t hang out tomorrow night, picked up an extra shift so I won’t be out of work until late. Sorry :( **(5:34 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** We can always spend time after work! What time do you get out? **(5:35 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Two in the morning, I have to close and everything, so maybe not tomorrow night. Next week? **(5:36 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Are you going to be tired after work? **(5:36 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Probably not, when I work long shifts I usually end up staying awake for a while. **(5:37 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** I’ll stay at your apartment waiting for you then! **(5:37 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Hui you don’t have to do that, I’ll feel really guilty if you do. **(5:38 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** You know, I wanted to see the sunrise with you sometime anyways. Why don’t we just stay up together? Wake me up when you come home. **(5:39 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you like that, we have other times to be together. **(5:40 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**I’m sure, baby. **(5:40 pm)** **  
** Hey, I’ve gotta go now, but I’ll text you when I get back, okay? **(5:41 pm)**

 **Hyojong ♡:** **  
** Kaaaaay ❤❤❤ **(5:42 pm)**

  
  
  
  


Wooseok had no issues with Hwitaek staying late, even made sure Hwitaek was comfortable in Hyojong’s room before going off to his own and falling asleep. He wasn’t much for conversation this time, most likely wary because Hwitaek was so close to Hyojong, he didn’t want to run the risk of saying something that would potentially offend Hwitaek, although Hyojong said their relationship was steadily returning to normal, other than the hesitation still lingering in the air that they would end up doing something to anger the other.

Hwitaek curled up in Hyojong’s blankets, fell asleep on and off every couple of minutes while keeping his phone in hand in case Hyojong wanted to talk. He had a few stray texts from his mother, one or two from Hyunggu, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough as he fell into a deep sleep.

  
  
  
  


Hyojong arrived at the apartment tired, aching to his very bones while slumping in through the front door. All of the lights in their living room were shut off, except for one in the kitchen to illuminate the dinner Wooseok had bought for Hyojong. He couldn’t even think about eating for more than a few seconds before yawning, stumbling down the hall and into his bedroom.

His eyes widened at the sight of Hwitaek asleep in his bed, curled up in his sheets with his eyes fluttered shut. The curve of his lashes against his cheeks paired with the moonlight glow spilling in through the window made Hyojong’s heart drop in his chest. How could Hwitaek be so breathtaking? While stripping himself of his shirt and kicking his shoes off in the corner towards the door, because he had forgotten to when he walked in through the front door, Hwitaek roused from his sleep, pushing himself up on one elbow while rubbing his eyes.

“Jongie?”

Hyojong shivered at the sound of his quiet, unbearably endearing voice. Hyojong only managed to unbutton his jeans before turning to face Hwitaek.

“Hey, baby.” Hyojong said. “Go back to sleep.”

“Noooo, we’re gonna go up on the roof like you said, to see the sunrise.” Hwitaek made a sloppy push at the heavy duvet, clearly comfortable underneath the covers while staying warm. “Lemme put my sweatpants on.”

“We can see it rise from here.” Hyojong said while sliding his curtains open. Then he kicked his pants off in the general direction of his hamper while Hwitaek clicked his tongue.

“That’s why none of your clothes are ever clean, you know.” Hwitaek chided.

“What, are you my mom?” Hyojong teased, trudging towards the other side of the bed and slipping under the covers, snuggling close to Hwitaek’s side. Warmth radiated from his body, Hyojong tucking himself closer until Hwitaek hummed and pulled him close, as close as he possibly could be without being completely on top of him.

“You’re so cold.” Hwitaek mumbled. “Give me your hands.”

Hyojong allowed himself to be coddled for once, Hwitaek taking his hands in his own and lifting them to his lips. Between short kisses and warm breaths against his skin, Hyojong’s hands warmed up. Hwitaek kissed his knuckles, lips pillowy soft and feather light against him.

“Better?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong nodded reluctantly, but smiled when Hwitaek held his hands tighter.

“Did you sleep well?” Hyojong whispered once he remembered Wooseok was asleep in the next room over, and he had school in the morning. Hwitaek let out a soft hum of confirmation. “Mm, I’m glad then.”

“Missed you though.” Hwitaek said.

“I missed you too.” Hyojong tucked a piece of hair behind Hwitaek’s ear. “How’s your week been?”

“It’s been all right. Kind of annoying, honestly.”

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just stressed about some stuff right now. Can I say something honestly?”

“Of course.” Hyojong said.

“I really wanted to see you this week. When you said we couldn’t hang out, I got really sad, so... thanks for indulging me.” Hwitaek flushed lightly. “Even if you’re tired from work.”

Hyojong grinned, leaning forward and capturing Hwitaek’s lips between his own. “What did I ever do to deserve you, Hui?”

“Guess you must've been a saint in your past life.” Hwitaek said against his lips. “What time is it anyways?”

Hyojong glanced at his alarm clock. “3:30. Closing took a little longer than I thought it would, I sent Hyungwon home early because he wasn’t feeling well.”

“You’re too nice to people sometimes.” Hwitaek said. “Do you ever think of your own wellbeing before other people’s?”

Hyojong hummed noncommittally, knowing that Hwitaek and the others thought he was too kind for his own good, that he let others walk all over him, but he knew he didn’t let people do that at all. He just liked helping people a little more than the average person, and besides that, it always worked out in his favor later on, because people would owe him for all the nice things he did for them. Hyungwon even said he would cover Hyojong any day he needed for letting him go home early, and Hyojong already had a few days in mind (like Valentine’s day, for example).

“Sunrise isn’t until seven.” Hyojong said.

“Oh god, I don’t think I can stay awake for another four hours.” Hwitaek groaned.

“Same.” Hyojong said. “Let’s just see it another time. I’ve seen dawn plenty of times before anyways.”

“From all your late nights working?” Hwitaek laughed.

“No, surprisingly enough.” Hyojong grinned. “My mom and I used to watch the sunrise together too. Before she left, I mean.”

“Oh.” Hwitaek said, jaw going slack. “I-I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Hyojong said. “My mother and I had a good relationship when I was young.”

“Do you... do you not talk to her anymore?” Hwitaek said carefully.

“We _did_ talk for a while. After Wooseok moved in, we got in touch. But I just couldn’t bring myself to see her again.”

“Why not?” Hwitaek urged.

“I couldn’t bear disappointing her.”

“With what?” Hwitaek sat up. “You’re not a disappointment. You’re smart, and you’re funny, and you’re too generous for your own good. You’ve housed person after person, given them a second chance at life. You work your ass off every day of your life to support Wooseok. How could she be disappointed in you?”

Hyojong sat up with Hwitaek uneasily, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he let out a soft sigh. “It’s not that simple.”

“What? What is it?”

“My mother is very religious... she always has been.”

“So?”

“So coming out to my mother while she’s so devout is just something I don’t want to do. I can’t see her again, I can’t listen to her ask me questions about girlfriends or having kids or getting married because I’ll have to see that disappointment on her face, and I.... I can’t do that to her.” Hyojong’s shoulders rose uneasily. “And it hurts because I’m out to everybody, I’m comfortable with who I am with everybody I know... except her.”

“Oh, Hyojong.” Hwitaek said, pulling Hyojong into his arms. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

“I miss talking to her so much.” Hyojong admitted, burying his face in the material of Hwitaek’s sweatshirt and hiding himself. “But I can’t lie, even if it’s for her sake. If she ever asked, I’d tell her.”

Hwitaek nodded, biting down on his bottom lip as Hyojong sighed and relaxed into his touch.

“Sorry. That was a little heavy to lay on you. I-I’m not really all that bothered—”

“Kim Hyojong, you stop apologizing right now.” Hwitaek chastised. “Listen to me. You always listen to everybody else’s problems. You are _always_ letting people into your home and giving them food and comforting them when they need it. Do you think I say you’re too good of a person to just hear my own voice? No, I say it because you’re... you’re an amazing person, Hyojong. So let yourself vent every now and again. You know I'm here to listen to you whenever you need to.” Hwitaek tucked a piece of hair behind Hyojong’s ear. “I'm sorry you haven't been able to talk to your mother. Hopefully some time soon you will. But until then, I'm here for you, okay?”

“Yeah.” Hyojong said softly, moving to wipe his eyes with the backs of his hands. “Okay.”

“You're such a crybaby.” Hwitaek snorted, Hyojong weakly punching his shoulder with a chuckle. “Good thing you're my crybaby.”

“ _You’re_ a crybaby.” Hyojong mumbled childishly, but gave into Hwitaek’s quiet laughter before resting his head on Hwitaek’s shoulder.

“Should I start calling you my dawn? Since you like sunrise so much, I’ll just call you that.” Hwitaek said. “My little Dawnie.”

“That’s embarrassing.” Hyojong pouted.

“It’s kind of cute, though!” Hwitaek exclaimed with a wide grin on his face. “My Dawnie. My Dawn.”

Hyojong flushed darkly, pulled away from Hwitaek’s shoulder as Hwitaek pressed their foreheads together, eyes fluttered shut while running his fingers through Hyojong’s soft hair. Hyojong inched forward, their lips brushing before he kissed Hwitaek, slowly, lazily, like they had all of the time in the world. Hwitaek laid Hyojong down on his back, crawled over his body while pulling the blankets over his shoulders. They parted only a few times for breath, heated skin warming each other to the point of overheating, but the bed was unbelievably cozy, and being tangled in one another was even better, so neither of them cared.

Hwitaek’s heart skipped a beat in his chest when he heard Hyojong mumble his name against his lips, the two pulling away as Hyojong pushed Hwitaek’s hair away from his face.

“Hey.” Hwitaek said, Hyojong nodding. “I... I love you.”

Hyojong’s eyes widened, heart overflowing with emotion as Hwitaek self-consciously moved away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it so suddenly.”

“No, hey, wait a second.” Hyojong said, pushing himself up on his elbows and pulling Hwitaek down with his free hand. Their lips pressed together again, Hyojong catching Hwitaek’s between his lips and savoring the warmth of their skin touching, of his breath knocked out of his lungs from the force of their kiss, the slick wetness of Hwitaek’s tongue just barely brushing against his bottom lip. “I love you, Hwitaek.”

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.”

“Your lack of trust in me is appalling.” Hyojong mumbled against his lips. “I said it because I’ve wanted to say it since I kissed you the first time. I’ve been saying it in my head every time I’ve touched you, held you in my arms... every time we’ve fallen asleep together, I’ve been saying it. I was just waiting for you.” Hyojong kissed Hwitaek again. “Now you can never get me to shut up about it. I love you. I love you, Hui.” Hyojong peppered kisses across Hwitaek’s face, kissed him quickly and tenderly. “Love you so much, love you, love you, love you.”

Hwitaek giggled as Hyojong nipped at his jawline, then his throat.

“Mm, cut it out, you’re gonna leave marks on me.” Hwitaek hummed, though he made no movement to stop Hyojong.

“Good. I hope I leave lots of them.” Hyojong grinned.

“No, baby, not tonight.” Hwitaek said, pushing gently on Hyojong’s chest. “Not tonight, okay?”

“Ugh,” Hyojong said overdramatically, throwing his arm over his forehead and sighing, _“fine,_ since you asked so nicely. One more kiss before we go to sleep, though.”

“Of course.” Hwitaek kissed Hyojong chastely. “Can I be the big spoon tonight?”

“You’re lucky I’m in a giving mood.” Hyojong teased, easily rolling himself over and letting Hwitaek tuck himself behind him, pulling him in by his waist and pressing warm kisses against the nape of his neck. “Night, Hui.”

“Good night, Dawnie.” Hwitaek mumbled sleepily, voice already fading quickly before his breathing leveled off, and Hyojong could feel him slumping against his back. Hyojong stared down at Hwitaek’s arms curled around his waist, hands resting lazily on his soft stomach before he slid his own hands over them and squeezed. He hoped Hwitaek could feel him holding tightly in his sleep.

  
  
  
  


“One more date?” Hyunggu said uneasily. “I don’t know, Hwitaek-hyung, it sounds like this girl is really liking you. Don’t you think you’re being a player right now?”

“A player?” Hwitaek sputtered. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re leading this girl on by letting her think you’re willing to be in a relationship with her, so that’s awful in and of itself. But you _also_ have been dating Hyojong-hyung for a while, so I don’t see why you’re going on these dates with a girl when you’ve got somebody that loves you already.” Hyunggu furrowed his brows. “Kind of makes you seem like a scum bag.”

“I’m not leading her on!” Hwitaek puffed. “My mother asked me to do this, I’m doing it for her benefit.”

“You say that every time I bring it up, as if I’m supposed to believe you.” Hyunggu stood up from his spot on the couch. “Do you know what I think, hyung? Respectfully, I think you’re insecure about dating a man. It took you ridiculously long just to tell me that you’re dating Hyojong-hyung. I would say you’re homophobic. Are you homophobic?”

“How can I be homophobic if I’m dating a man?” Hwitaek said. “That’s just ridiculous, listen to yourself, Hyunggu-yah.”

“If you’re not homophobic, then why are you dating a girl on the side? What’s wrong with being exclusive with a man?” Hyunggu pressed.

“ _Nothing,_ there’s nothing wrong with dating a man.” Hwitaek said through gritted teeth. “I’m not ashamed of Hyojong, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“That’s exactly what I’m getting at.” Hyunggu said. “And I don’t believe for a second that you’re dating this girl just for your mother. Admit it, hyung, some part of you is happy that you’re with a girl again.”

“Is there anything so wrong with me wanting something normal for a few hours?!” Hwitaek snapped, voice rising louder than he had ever let it while speaking to Hyunggu. His expression faltered, nearly dropping the glass he had been washing drop to the ground as Hyunggu sneered and shook his head.

“I knew it.” Hyunggu said.

“Hyunggu-yah, I’m just—”

“Hyung, don’t try and justify what you just said to me. I’m already pissed off that you just said it. I can’t _believe_ you.” Hyunggu lifted his hand in front of him and stopped Hwitaek from speaking again. “You better tell Hyojong about this soon, or I’ll tell him. I’ll tell Wooseok. I’ll tell one of them. You better decide what it is you want.” Hyunggu stormed off to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him as Hwitaek leaned his forehead against the fridge and sighed heavily. Hyojong was supposed to come over the next day, but if Hyunggu was going to be so adamant about it, Hwitaek would just have to go over to Hyojong’s instead.

  
  
  
  


No matter how much Hwitaek tried to remind himself that kissing a girl was normal, that this type of attraction was to be expected from him, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy it when she kissed him on the following date they had.

Her lips were too tense, and her hands kept moving from his neck to his shoulders in a way that seemed like she was petting him in some weird fashion. Her eyes opened more than one time, as if expecting a reaction from him, but he wasn’t giving any. And when she apologized, Hwitaek didn’t tell her not to, the way he told Hyojong not to, but appreciated her apology, because she bit his bottom lip when they stopped kissing and he could feel blood trickling inside of his mouth.

Hwitaek didn’t deny her request for another date.

This was normal, he reminded himself.

  
  
  
  


Hyojong was so _warm,_ Hwitaek thought it was impossible for him to be anything but warm. Often times when Hyojong came home, he was freezing, shivering down to his bones, and had to cuddle up with his blankets until he reached a normal temperature (which was still a little cool to Hwitaek).

Wooseok had left for the night, said he’d be spending the night at Yuto’s. Before he left, he hugged Hyojong, asked him not to worry because they’d probably be sleeping for most of the night anyways. Hyojong couldn’t hide the smile on his face after that.

And then he and Hwitaek moved to Hyojong’s bedroom, the two easily falling into a comfortable pace of kissing, shucking off their shirts, kissing again, stopping only to unbutton their jeans and tug them off. Hyojong easily pulled his off from his spot on the bed, while Hwitaek stumbled over his own legs just to kick them off in the corner of the room, which made Hyojong giggle and hide his laughter behind his hand.

Soon enough, Hyojong had slid out an unopened bottle of lube from his bedside table, making Hwitaek raise a brow towards him.

“Used the other bottle already?” Hwitaek said suspiciously. “Either you’re very generous with your lube, or....”

Hyojong blushed. “Look, don’t judge me.” He said. Hwitaek leaned over and smirked.

“How often do you finger yourself, Dawnie?” Hwitaek teased. “Twice a week? Three times? Every night?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Hyojong said, body squirming from the bed as he searched for friction and warmth against his half-hard cock. “Anyway... you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

“What?” Hwitaek said. “Finger you?”

“Y-yeah.” Hyojong nodded.

“Never said I didn’t want to.” Hwitaek twisted the lube cap off to tear off the seal, before twisting it shut again and popping the cap instead. “Just wanna know how often you do it.”

Hyojong bit his bottom lip as Hwitaek eased his boxers off over his hips, cock curving slightly as he whimpered when the cool air of the bedroom hit him. Hwitaek eased himself back from Hyojong’s hips, tucked himself between his legs before spreading them easily on either side. Hyojong flushed darkly, embarrassed with his open and pliant position in front of Hwitaek.

“Look at you.” Hwitaek said, sliding his hands down Hyojong’s slightly toned skin, body trembling under Hwitaek’s warm touch as he whined long in his throat. “Sensitive, Jongie? Are you sensitive?”

“F-fuck, Hui.” Hyojong bit down on his bottom lip. “Don’t tease.”

Hwitaek leaned over Hyojong’s body, set the bottle of lube down for now, and instead, placed wet, open mouthed kisses over his throat and collarbones. Hyojong obediently moved to Hwitaek’s comfort, baring his throat for Hwitaek to nip and suck at before laving his tongue over the reddening warm spots in his skin. A whimper escaped his lips, eyes fluttered shut as Hwitaek kissed lower, and lower, flicking his tongue over Hyojong’s nipple and watching as his back arched slightly. Another flick of the tongue, another arch of Hyojong’s back, his hands lifting from the bed and curling in Hwitaek’s coffee brown hair.

“Just like that.” Hyojong moaned.

Hwitaek scraped his teeth against the pert flesh of his nipple, watched as Hyojong’s hips stuttered off of the bed and clashed into his own. Wordlessly, Hwitaek attached his lips to Hyojong’s nipple and sucked, listened to helpless whines tumble from Hyojong’s lips like prayers to a deity above before Hwitaek noticed Hyojong was already getting harder from his touches, though he had hardly done anything. A surge of pride rushed through Hwitaek as he pulled off with a soft _pop!_ and blew cold air over him to watch the bud harden. Hyojong bit down on his fist, muffled his moans into his skin while Hwitaek pushed Hyojong’s legs apart further.

“Wow.” Hwitaek proclaimed softly.

“Stop.” Hyojong whined. “Stop teasing, it’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not teasing.” Hwitaek said, pushing himself up, closer to Hyojong’s face, capturing his lips with a kiss. “I’m sincerely amazed at how gorgeous you are.”

“Greasy, hyung!” Hyojong said, burying his face in his pillow.

“I don’t care.” Hwitaek hummed in satisfaction. “I’ll be as greasy as possible, you’re still... the most amazing person I’ve ever seen.” Hwitaek said breathlessly, pulling away from Hyojong’s face to gaze upon his body, let his eyes trail over each and every one of his tattoos.

How many times had he traced his fingers over each of them, memorized each curve and twist of the ink on his skin, if only for a moment? They were permanent, ingrained on his skin for the rest of his life, and while Hwitaek had the opportunity to do it himself (he was an adult, after all), he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Hyojong knew what he wanted in life with everything he did. He knew he wanted these tattoos, he knew he wanted to be in Wooseok’s life as a friend or his brother, either one, and he definitely knew he wanted Hwitaek in his life. How somebody so young could be so sure of himself in life made Hwitaek feel envious in a way.

“You’re staring.” Hyojong interrupted Hwitaek’s thoughts.

“Am I?” Hwitaek said under his breath.

“You are.” Hyojong reiterated, voice sounding almost insecure as he moved to cover himself. Hwitaek took Hyojong’s hands in his own, holding them away from his body and letting the warmth of Hyojong’s body spread to his own.

“Sorry.” Hwitaek said, though it sounded less than sincere. “You really are something beautiful, Hyojong. I’m not just saying that because I’m with you, you know.” Hwitaek swallowed thickly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Hwitaek.”

  


Hyojong found himself quickly mewling into his blankets and pillows bunched up at his sides, hands clenching around his sheets as Hwitaek slid his third finger inside of him and curled it towards the same spot he had before. Precum trickled down his hard cock, body begging for more than just Hwitaek’s fingers inside of him, touching his prostate, teasing him like he had done this a few times before, and then returning to massaging his inner walls. Hwitaek cursed at the warmth inside of Hyojong’s body, his cock twitching at the idea of being buried to the hilt inside of him, savoring his overwhelming heat and for a split second, he thought about coming inside of Hyojong, of feeling Hyojong tightening around him and milking his orgasm for all it was worth.

Hwitaek brushed the pads of his finger against his prostate again, earned a desperate keen from Hyojong as he arched off of the bed and dragged his fingernails down Hwitaek’s back in a desperate attempt to steady himself.

“H-Hui, I’m... I’m gonna come if you don’t....”

“Don’t? Don’t stop?” Hwitaek said, punctuating his sentence with a particularly hard brush of his fingers against Hyojong’s prostate. Hyojong nodded frantically, burying his face in the crook of Hwitaek’s neck and whimpering high in his throat. “Don’t you want to come?”

“Want to come with you... inside me.” Hyojong admittedly softly. “Want you inside me.”

“Hyojong.” Hwitaek said, catching his attention by sweeping his sweat-soaked hair away from his face. “Do you want me to?”

“Yes, yes.” Hyojong nodded again. “Please?”

Hwitaek laid Hyojong down on the bed, slipping his fingers out from Hyojong’s body. “Like this?”

“However you want me, Hui.” Hyojong panted. Hwitaek reached into the pocket of his jeans strewn on the floor, pulled out an aluminum packet that made Hyojong smile. “Prepared?” He grinned.

“Always.”

  


Hyojong yelped when he felt himself being shifted into his favorite position, the one he had mentioned to Hwitaek all those months ago, their bodies slipping together comfortably before Hwitaek groaned and pressed warm, feverish kisses into Hyojong’s leg.

“H-Hwitaek.” Hyojong begged. “Don’t stop.”

Hwitaek snapped his hips, the sound of skin hitting skin the only sound besides their loud, desperate moans. Distantly, Hyojong hoped his neighbors weren’t home, or at the very least, weren’t listening. After all the nights he had endured listening to them go at it, he hardly cared if they were upset, but a part of him said he should be considerate and keep quiet. He lifted his hand to his mouth, bit down to muffle the moans, but Hwitaek pulled his hand from him and shook his head, thrusting into his once more and earning a cry in response.

“Please, Hui.”

Hwitaek hit Hyojong’s prostate dead on, Hwitaek moaning at the sudden clench of Hyojong’s body, thighs trembling around him as he begged, pleaded, cried out for all of Hwitaek. His back arched off of the bed, body writhing and surrounding Hwitaek in an overwhelming warmth unlike any other he had experienced before. With Hyojong’s leg bent over his shoulder, he caged Hyojong in against the bed, hips jerking back and rocking into Hyojong again.

Curiously, he rolled his hips against Hyojong instead of thrusting in again, grinding himself as the younger melted under his touch and nodded excitedly, muscles clenching before he let out expectant moans and whines under his breath.

“Touch me, touch me, make me come.” Hyojong whined, interrupted by a loud groan as soon as Hwitaek wrapped his fingers around him and jerked him in time with the rocks and cants of his hips against him. “Fuck, w-wait, wait, baby.” Hyojong said, Hwitaek stuttering to a quick stop. Before he could ask if he had done anything wrong, Hyojong used his foot to push Hwitaek away, slipping out of him and making Hyojong release a weak moan.

Then he pushed Hwitaek down on his back, reached behind himself, and slipped Hwitaek inside of his entrance while straddling his hips. It was Hwitaek’s turn to groan, eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back and nodded with encouragement.

“Remembered you said you like this position, baby.” Hyojong used the pet name liberally. “How’s this?” Hyojong feigned innocence, voice coquettish and high as he bounced once, a moan erupting from the two of them at the same time before Hyojong arched his body back and rocked himself against Hwitaek.

The pace built up again, the slick and wet sounds of lube and skin on skin filling the air alongside Hyojong’s desperate pleas and encouragements. If Hwitaek had a kink for praise, he would definitely be losing it with how much Hyojong was piling it on. A high, wanton moan left Hyojong’s lips as his body trembled under Hwitaek’s touches, fingers tracing lines and promises into the skin. Hyojong clenched around Hwitaek after he rolled his hips in just the right way, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting.

“I’m gonna come.” Hyojong warned.

“I’m close.” Hwitaek echoed the sentiment, reached up and pulled Hyojong’s hair just enough to hear him moan in pleasure. He leaned over to kiss Hwitaek, lips catching on teeth and tongue and too much tension, but neither of them cared much, not when Hyojong was tightening so deliciously against Hwitaek, and Hwitaek was a panting, hot, disheveled mess underneath him. Hyojong’s fingers wrapped around his own cock, jerked himself once, twice, before his body tensed and he came with a loud cry, sinking down on Hwitaek’s cock and tightening around him as Hwitaek came only a moment after giving a particularly sharp thrust.

Hyojong, not mindful of the mess in his hands at all, toppled over on Hwitaek’s body, panting, puffing for breath while Hwitaek ran his hands through Hyojong’s blonde hair, pressed kisses to his temples and asked if he had pulled too hard. Hyojong mumbled something like denial to his question as Hwitaek turned him over and carefully eased himself out of Hyojong’s entrance.

Hwitaek willed his mind to shut up when he imagined when it would have been like if he had come inside of Hyojong without a condom, because that was a lot more than the two had ever discussed. Still, his mouth went dry at the thought, and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep his mind from venturing into the idea any more than it already had.

“Tissues?” Hwitaek asked. Hyojong sloppily gestured towards the bedside table, where Hwitaek managed to find a small package of tissues. He took one, cleaned up Hyojong’s hands and his softening cock, along with some of the cum that had managed to spurt out onto his stomach before sliding his condom off and tying it with the tissue. He tossed it in the trash just beside the table and turned back to Hyojong. “Are you okay?”

“M’good.” Hyojong slurred, turning to face Hwitaek. “Tired now.”

“Sorry.” Hwitaek said sheepishly.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Hyojong said while he lifted his hand from his side and ran his fingers through Hwitaek’s sweat-tinged bangs. “You look tired too.”

“I’m maybe a little spent.”

“Too spent for a shower?” Hyojong said. “We probably need one desperately.”

“Speak for yourself.” Hwitaek joked. “I smell like roses.”

“Hm,” Hyojong prefaced, rolling over and pressing his nose in the crook of Hwitaek’s neck, “nope. You smell like lube and sweat. And like me, a little bit.” Hyojong smiled. “Far from roses.”

Hwitaek easily gave into the idea of a shower when Hyojong kissed his collarbones and promised it would be quick. But as soon as the water turned on and the temperature rose from cold to steaming hot, the two relaxed and took their time. Hwitaek apologized for every moment they wasted water, kissed Hyojong under the spray of water while backing him into the wall and lifting one of his legs so he could slot himself between them properly. Hyojong hardly cared about the potential water bill he could have on his hands— not while Hwitaek was kissing him, and definitely not while Hwitaek’s hands roamed his body so freely.

Only when the water turned cold did the two rush out with chattering teeth and quiet giggles. They dressed in Hyojong’s bedroom, laid down together after Hyojong insisted he change the sheets. This time Hyojong wanted to be the big spoon, so Hwitaek allowed himself to be coddled and protected, curled up in warm blankets and Hyojong’s legs and his arms and everything, everything _exuded_ Hyojong until he was all Hwitaek could think of.

Hyunggu’s warning came up as Hwitaek laid there with Hyojong, their fingers laced together comfortably as Hyojong’s breathing leveled in a way that said he was relaxed, but not asleep. His hands were calloused from work, fingers slightly rough from moving things all day, from working and taking on everybody else’s responsibilities. Hwitaek dragged his fingernails along the rough skin, stuttering quietly as Hyojong hummed in acknowledgment.

“Hyojong, have you... have you ever been scared to come out to somebody?” Hwitaek said carefully. Hyojong didn’t seem to notice the tone of apprehension in Hwitaek’s voice, just clicked his tongue and pushed himself up on one arm while Hwitaek rolled over and faced him. “Have you always been so confident in your sexuality like this?”

“I was afraid for a long time, Hwitaek, of a lot of things. I was scared of my own dad, of the things he would do to me. I was scared of coming out to him, defying his stupid shit and becoming my own person.... Scared to move out, and scared of losing Wooseok. I think there was some point throughout all of that fear that I just decided that being scared of coming out was one thing too many to be scared of.” Hyojong pursed his lips pensively. Hwitaek debated kissing him, but held back. “Does that make sense? After all of it was said and done, coming out as gay wasn’t nearly as terrifying as all of the other shit I’d dealt with in life.”

Hwitaek nodded slowly, Hyojong furrowing his brows and catching his attention by caressing the side of his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Maybe I phrased the question wrong.” Hwitaek said uneasily. “What I mean.... I mean, what I meant to ask is if you’ve ever wanted to... _not_ be gay?” Hwitaek said. “Have you ever just wished you weren’t?”

“No.” Hyojong said, tone just a tinge too sharp for it to be casual. “Why are you asking?”

“I’m just curious.” Hwitaek mumbled.

Hyojong narrowed his gaze towards Hwitaek, clearly unconvinced.

“No, really, I’ve just been thinking... because you’re so confident in everything you do.” Hwitaek said. “I just... thought maybe there had been a time where you wished you weren’t.”

“Look.... Most gay people have _probably_ had a few times where they wished they weren’t gay.” Hyojong explained, expression softening slightly when he noticed how uneasy Hwitaek seemed to be when broaching the subject. “But I just don’t have the time or the energy to really care about that anymore. That’s not putting down anybody who _is_ scared or uncomfortable. I just personally don’t think my biggest flaw is liking men.” Hyojong eyed Hwitaek suspiciously. “You’re not asking just because you’re curious, are you?”

“I am.” Hwitaek repeated, this time firmly, as if trying to convince himself as well. Hyojong didn’t say anything else, lips pressed in a thin line even when Hwitaek leaned forward and tried to peck a chaste kiss to his lips. After pulling the blankets up and repositioning himself on the bed (this time, not spooning Hwitaek), Hyojong fell asleep, snoring quietly into the pillow beneath him. Hwitaek curled up on the opposite side of the bed, fingers clenched tightly around the bunches of blanket. Suddenly the scent of Hyojong wasn’t relaxing and comforting, but suffocating, overwhelming as Hwitaek sat up and rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was just overthinking things, but Hyojong was suspicious now, knew that maybe, possibly Hwitaek was not as comfortable with this as he originally thought.

Glancing over his shoulder, Hwitaek rose from the bed without another sound, grabbed his clothes from the floor and slipped out to get dressed. He grabbed his phone from the dining room table, found a few messages from Hyunggu, and another two from the girl he had been seeing. What an awful time, he thought, to be reminded of her existence, as he slipped out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

  
  
  
  


It was their sixth “date”.

She had suggested a restaurant, the same place Hwitaek had first taken Hyojong to thank him for his hospitality.

Instead of sitting across from him, she sat beside him, let their knees touch under the table while giggling softly and not asking if that was okay, like the countless times Hyojong had when they were together.

She never really asked if the things she did were okay, but why should she? Hwitaek was leading her on, never objected or showed that he didn’t want this kind of thing from her.

So kissing him was normal.

Her kissing him was normal.

It didn’t feel normal.

Hwitaek had been with women before. He had dated women exclusively since he was a teenager, so it wasn’t the fact that she was a woman that made him uncomfortable.

He just couldn’t quite put his finger on why it felt so strange.

Their usual waitress came up, not smiling at him like she did. He wondered if she had recognized him from the countless times he had been there with Wooseok and Hyojong.

Halfway through the dinner, she kissed him again, peppered kisses across his face and said something about how comfortable she felt sitting there with him. Unable to respond or say something coherent and truthful, Hwitaek just bit down into his food and forced himself to swallow it down without a word.

As their waitress returned with their check, Hwitaek noticed a tall figure passing by the table. He stopped, eyes flickering down towards Hwitaek before he waved and gave a short smile.

The tall figure was Wooseok, and with Wooseok came Hyojong, always.

However, Hyojong came up, smiled up at Wooseok with a bright grin on his face.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

Wooseok nodded, moved to leave, but Hwitaek, always the one to make stupid, rash decisions, lurched out of his seat and grabbed at Hyojong’s wrist, stopped him in his tracks. Hyojong turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed with a look of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Hyojong, how long were you here?” Hwitaek said, eyes searching for the slightest bit of anger or vexation in his expression, but he hardly faltered.

Hwitaek parted his lips to speak again, to apologize for his idiocy, for _cheating_ on Hyojong with a woman he had no interest in, but the words wouldn’t come, and Hyojong wasn’t being patient either. Instead, he wrenched his arm from Hwitaek, rubbed the spot on his wrist and looked him up and down.

“Do I know you?” Hyojong practically spat the words out. Hwitaek’s eyes widened.

“Hyojong, please.”

Hyojong quirked a brow.

“Please, let me explain.” Hwitaek said. “We can talk about this, about what happened—”

“Sorry, you must have me mistaken for somebody else.” Hyojong said, and this time, his words hit Hwitaek in his heart, like a searing bullet through his chest as he shook his head. “Enjoy the rest of your date with your... girlfriend.”

Hyojong’s voice fell when he said the last part before walking away. Wooseok and Hyojong disappeared from the restaurant without another word.

And leave it to Hyojong to say absolutely nothing at all about the situation at hand, and yet, _everything._ He said nothing rude, nothing bashing the woman he was with, or even Hwitaek for playing him. He didn’t press or question how long this had been going on, because it just wasn’t Hyojong’s style to make a scene, it never had been, and that was what hurt most. Hyojong didn’t have to say anything and it still hurt more than any curse he could have thrown Hwitaek’s way.

When Hwitaek returned to the table, he apologized to the woman, but said he couldn’t be with her anymore, that he just wasn’t interested in the same way she was. At the end of dinner, she left before he did, and Hwitaek returned to his apartment without touching the bottle of soju he bought from the convenience store on the way home.

Hyunggu didn’t bother asking what was wrong when Hwitaek burst into tears while putting the bottle of soju away in the cupboard.

But he didn’t reject Hwitaek the way he should have for being an idiot, for taking advantage of Hyojong’s kindness and vulnerability and using it as an excuse for being afraid.

They curled up on the couch, Hyunggu pushing Hwitaek’s hair away from his face as he cried, and curled up in a ball, and cried some more. Hyunggu couldn’t bring himself to comfort Hwitaek anymore than that because he really didn’t deserve it.

Hyunggu didn’t even try to stop him when Hwitaek tugged his phone from his pocket and sent a handful of messages to Hyojong.

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**Please let me explain. **(9:48 pm)** **  
** **Read** 9:49 pm

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**It wasn’t what you thought. We didn’t do anything, I swear. **(9:52 pm)** **  
** **Read** 9:52 pm

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**Please say something! I know you’re upset, so just yell at me or get mad or something! **(9:59 pm)** **  
** **Read** 9:59 pm

 **Hwitaek:** **  
**Hyojong please, please don’t ignore me. We can talk about this. **(10:01 pm)** **  
** **Read** 10:03 pm

 **Dawnie ♡:** **  
**hyung said he doesnt want to talk to u, left his phone with me - wooseok **(10:05 pm)  
** what happened?? **(10:06 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** Wooseok, I really need to talk to Hyojong. Can I come over? **(10:06 pm)**

 **Dawnie ♡:** **  
** what did u do? **(10:07 pm)**

 **Hwitaek:** **  
** I made a mistake. I just need to see him. **(10:08 pm)**

 **Dawnie ♡:** **  
** ask tomorrow he’ll probably want his phone back in the morning. have to go to bed, exam tomorrow - good night! **(10:09 pm)**

“Maybe you should give it some time, hyung.” Hyunggu said, brushing Hwitaek’s hair from his face again. “No offense, but if I were Hyojong, I wouldn’t want to see your cheating face ever again.”

“I know.” Hwitaek mumbled.

“Hey, at least you didn’t try to deny you really were cheating this time.” Hyunggu said that as if it was a positive thing. Hwitaek pushed himself off of the couch and stood up.

“I’m gonna lay down.” Hwitaek said, rushed off in the general direction of his room before slamming the door shut behind him and immediately falling face first into the bed. He had neither the will nor the energy to change into his pajamas. Sleep evaded him for what felt like hours as Hwitaek heard Hyunggu go to bed, because he had class in the morning just like Wooseok did. He laid awake and stared at the ceiling, traced over the textures and lines of the ceiling before slowly falling into a restless, anxiety-ridden sleep.

  
  
  
  


Hwitaek was awoken by the sound of pounding knocks from the living room the following morning. Wearing the same clothes from the night before, he trudged out of bed and started towards the front door, only able to wrap his fingers around the doorknob after unlocking it before he felt himself being shoved into the wall of his apartment.

“What did you do to Hyojong-hyung?” Wooseok growled, a sneer on his lips as his grip on Hwitaek’s shirt tightened, knuckles white with how firmly he held Hwitaek.

“N-nothing! I mean—” Hwitaek felt Wooseok shove him into the wall again.

“You’re a liar, I know you did something to him.” Wooseok snapped. “Did you break up with him?”

“No, I’m trying to fix what I did, not make it worse!”

“So you _did_ do something! What did you do? Why was he crying this morning? Huh?”

“He was _crying?”_ Hwitaek said, tone horrified and laced with regret.

“He even called into work today. You wanna know the last time he called into work? I had to _force_ him to call in when he had bronchitis four years ago. Four years! So don’t tell me you didn’t do anything to him.”

Hwitaek lifted his hands defensively when he noticed the way Wooseok’s eyes darkened upon staring him down.

“I made a mistake, Wooseok. A huge mistake.” Hwitaek bit his bottom lip. “Colossal.”

“You better fix it.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying to fix it as best as I can, but Hyojong won’t talk to me.” Hwitaek shook his head. “I just need to apologize, I need to explain why I did what I did. Look, can you help me? Please?”

“Tell me what you did first.” Wooseok said.

Hwitaek, shaking in his spot against the wall, managed to wiggle out from Wooseok’s hold, standing on his own two feet and straightening himself out, as much as he could anyways. Wooseok took a cautionary step back, as if he knew if he didn’t, he’d lose it and hurt Hwitaek.

“I... cheated on Hyojong.”

“You what?!” Wooseok shouted.

“Please don’t hit me.” Hwitaek rushed out, flinching when Wooseok lifted his hands from his sides.

“How could you do that to him?” Wooseok threw his hands up. “How could you cheat on him?”

“I don’t know!” Hwitaek lied, then retracted his comment and awkwardly scratched at his neck. “Okay, I do know. It’s just not a very good reason.”

“As if you actually have a valid reason for cheating on somebody! How could you do that to him?” Wooseok repeated, but didn’t stop for a response from Hwitaek. “He really loves you, hyung.” Wooseok furrowed his brows, searching for an answer in Hwitaek’s eyes, and finding nothing. “Was it that girl yesterday? At the restaurant?”

“Yes, it was her, but we didn’t do anything serious, I swear. I swear on my life.”

“This _is_ serious!” Wooseok yelled. “Do you think cheating on somebody isn’t serious?!”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Hwitaek sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Everything I say sounds wrong, but I swear, I’m not trying to come off like that. Look, Wooseok, it’s just really complicated, and I need to talk to Hyojong about it. Would he talk to me if I went over?”

“Hm....” Wooseok said, putting his hands on his hips. “Honestly, I don’t think so. But I won’t forgive you if you don’t _try_ to see him, at least.”

“You said he called into work, so he’ll be home, right?”

“I’m not sure. I think he said something about going to see Jinho and Hongseok, or the two of them coming over, maybe. If Jinho is over, you should be scared. He may be short, but he’s _terrifying_ when he’s pissed off.” Wooseok hummed nonchalantly. Hwitaek nodded, resigned to his possible death at the hands of short, angry Jinho, or motherly, overbearing Hongseok. “By the way, I need to be on campus in twenty minutes, I came here to yell at you instead of catching the bus. You should drive me to campus to make up for this.”

  
  
  
  


Standing on the other side of Hyojong’s door made Hwitaek unbearably anxious. Most of the time, he and Hyojong walked to the door together, sometimes hand in hand, sometimes not, but every single time, Hyojong held the door open for Hwitaek, let him walk in first, and followed closely (usually doing something cute, like hugging him from behind, or pinching his butt if he felt like seeing Hwitaek blush).

Much like the first time Hwitaek saw Wooseok and Hyojong fight, the atmosphere was cold, like he could feel ice in the air and touch it when he reached his hand out to knock on the door. Apprehension shot through his veins like adrenaline before the fall on a rollercoaster, but Hwitaek, against his better judgment, rapped his knuckles down on the wood of Hyojong’s door, waited as the sound of footsteps echoed through the apartment, followed by the door being unlocked.

“Jinho, I told you I would go over to your place, it’s not like I—”

Rocking back on his heels, Hwitaek found Hyojong standing before him, eyes dark, red with tears, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he sniffled, looked up from the floor and startled at the sight of Hwitaek.

“Oh, it’s you.” Hyojong said, hand uneasily moving for the doorknob as Hwitaek lifted his hands defensively.

“I only want to talk.” Hwitaek breathed out, as if the words would have too much force and scare Hyojong away. Hyojong uneasily shifted in his spot, his free hand curling around the blanket on his shoulders before he burrowed himself away from Hwitaek.

“What’s there to say?” He mumbled. The lack of a kind tone in his voice made Hwitaek feel like a stranger in front of somebody he considered his lover, his boyfriend, and he hated it.

“Everything.” Hwitaek paused, furrowed his brows and dropped his hands to his sides. He had no reason for them to be up. If Hyojong wanted to hit him, he knew he deserved it (but Hyojong wouldn’t, because he wasn’t that kind of person, and shame on Hwitaek for thinking he ever would). “An explanation.”

“I don’t want to hear excuses.” Hyojong said, eyes flickering up to Hwitaek before he blinked and looked away. Hwitaek missed seeing his dark, almost black eyes staring at him lovingly, and it had only been a day. “You did what you did. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s not an excuse.” Hwitaek replied quickly. “It’s not an excuse, I know what I did was fucked up. I just want a second to explain, and... and try to show you that....”

“That, what?” Hyojong spat the words out.

“That I love you.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Hyojong shook his head, stepped aside in the doorway and gestured inside of the apartment. Hwitaek looked into the living room, eyes tracing over the open space before Hyojong waved. “Come in, you look constipated standing out there in the hallway.”

Hwitaek bit back a quiet laugh in his throat, reminded himself not to smile when Hyojong invited him inside. This was good, this was progress, but it definitely didn’t mean anything was forgiven. Carefully, Hwitaek stepped inside and followed Hyojong to the living room.

“It’s cold.” Hyojong grumbled. “Do you want something warm to drink?”

Hwitaek stuttered out a response. “No, I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”

“I’m boiling water for tea already, so... if you do, let me know.” Hyojong plopped down on his couch, bunched up in his blankets while he reached for a remote to mute the TV. Hwitaek sat down on the couch, clearly too close when Hyojong pulled back. That hurt, Hwitaek thought before scooching away and twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

With the noise from the television silenced, the apartment was eerily quiet. Most of the time when they were together, Hyojong had the television going, and if he didn’t, he was singing, sometimes humming, or just talking in general. The apartment was never this quiet on purpose. As if noticing the atmosphere as well, Hyojong sighed heavily and pulled the blankets away from his face.

“Do you... do you want to ask me anything, before I start talking?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong chewed on his bottom lip, eyes focusing on Hwitaek’s expression before he parted his lips.

“You talk first.”

Hwitaek nodded, swallowed hard against the ball in his throat and sat back on the couch. “Hyojong.... I never wanted to hurt you. Ever, not once in our... relationship did I ever imagine I’d do something like that. I’ve never been that type of person.”

Hyojong, uninterested or unconvinced— Hwitaek couldn’t tell—, looked away from Hwitaek as he spoke.

“I’m not defending myself. I’m just going to say it all at once, okay?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong nodded. “I was scared. I’m not a very confident person, Hyojong. I’m insecure, and I’m unsure of myself a lot of the time, but I’m sure I love you. I know I love you, and that... terrifies me.”

Hyojong stayed silent.

“That night I asked you if you had ever wished you weren’t interested in men was because I was scared of admitting it. I’ve never liked another man in the same way I like you, Hyojong, but it came so naturally to me.... It almost felt more normal to be with you than it ever had to be with a woman, and I just didn’t want to admit that. At first, my mother set me up with that woman just to quell her need to know I wasn’t lonely, but the more time I spent with her, the more I was reminded that she didn’t do anything for me. I didn’t look at her the same way I looked at you. When she smiled, my heart didn’t skip or even react in the slightest. She was just... there. Every time we went out, I just kept imagining you sitting in her spot, and you doing these things with me.”

“How many times?” Hyojong said suddenly.

“What?”

“How many times did you go out with her?”

“Oh.... Uhm, the last time was the sixth time, I think.”

“Six times?” Hyojong said, voice barely a whisper, but with the silence of the room, sounded like a sob. Hwitaek shook with fear. “You... you went on a date with her _six times?”_

“Yeah. I... did.”

“What did you even _do?”_

“Nothing! Nothing, that’s the only part I’ll defend myself at.” Hwitaek lifted his hands in front of him. “I mean, she kissed me three times, but that’s it. That’s all. We never did anything together, I never even thought about it.”

“You didn’t push her away when she kissed you though.” Hyojong said. “I saw you.”

“I wanted to feel normal, Hyojong.” Hwitaek said desperately. “I know you won’t be able to relate, but I’m still so scared of this. I’m lucky Hyunggu has been accepting, but my family? My friends? I’ve never had to deal with this. So... dating her was sort of a last resort to feel normal again.” Hwitaek turned his gaze to the ground. “Like I didn’t have to hide.”

Waiting, listening, Hyojong pulled his knees up to his chest, staring at Hwitaek until the older nodded.

“That’s the explanation... and if you’d let me, I just want to apologize from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry, Hyojong. I really am an idiot.” Hwitaek paused. “That’s... that’s all I have to say.”

Hyojong eyed Hwitaek carefully, unsure of what to say in the silence of the apartment before he lowered his gaze to Hwitaek’s fingers clenching around the couch cushion. Hyojong wet his lips with his tongue, eyes tired from how long he had been crying just a few minutes before Hwitaek had gotten there. Hwitaek was sure there was so much Hyojong wanted to say about it all, about what had happened, so he didn’t rush him or appear impatient, despite the fact that it felt like a lifetime was passing in the moment of silence.

Hyojong nodded his head. “I accept your apology.” Then he sniffled. “But I can’t be with you.”

“I... you— w-what?”

“I understand what you’re saying, Hwitaek. I really do, but I just don’t have the energy to deal with this.” Hyojong pursed his lips pensively. “I have Wooseok to think of. He’s been applying to universities, you know. If he moves out to stay on campus, I’ll have to move to a smaller apartment and pay for his dorm, hyung.”

This time, the way Hyojong said “hyung” sounded odd, like they were only friends. Hwitaek shivered.

“And... and my mother tried getting ahold of me a week ago.” Hyojong dropped his voice at the end of his sentence. “I didn’t have the courage to answer. She wants to see me at the end of this month.” Hyojong hummed, clearly trying to hide his anxiety by pretending it wasn’t bothering him. Hwitaek had seen Hyojong put on that front so many times, but it was different this time, because Hwitaek couldn’t call him out on it, couldn’t even ask if he wanted to talk. That wasn’t his place anymore. “So there’s that. I was hoping I would be able to talk to you about it, but it seems like you’re dealing with your own issues. I have a lot on my plate as it is.”

“That’s a little selfish, don’t you think?” Hwitaek said. Hyojong cocked his head.

“You’re calling _me_ selfish?”

“Just... just because I’m going through my own problems, I’m suddenly not useful to you anymore?” Hwitaek continued, furrowing his brows.

“That’s not what I said. And if you let me finish, you’d know I was going to say that I’ve been in relationships like this before. Hwitaek, you _cheated_ on me. I’ve been with other men like you, and no matter how much they apologize or say it’ll be different, it never is.” Hyojong shook his head, blonde hair falling past his eyes as he swept his hand over his face and pushed his bangs to the side. “You’re scared of something I’ve fought to take pride in since I came out. This just won’t work.”

“Just let me try and change, Hyojong. You don’t know that it’s going to be the same as any other time.”

“No, I don’t know it’s going to be the same. I know it’s going to be _worse._ When it happened with those other guys, I got over it in a couple of days. They were just flings. With you... it’s going to hurt for so much longer, hyung, because I love you.” Hyojong bit his bottom lip, flickered his eyes between Hwitaek and his own fingertips in front of him, resting on his knees. “I still love you.”

Hwitaek fell to his knees, crawled to Hyojong, hands clasped in front of him. “I’m begging you, let me fix this. Let me show you I can change.”

“Hyung, get off of the floor.” Hyojong managed to say through a frown, pushing himself off of the couch and rushing into the kitchen. Hwitaek followed after scrambling to his feet, found Hyojong leaning over the sink and wiping his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

“How can you just be so nonchalant about this?” Hwitaek pressed, voice gaining an annoyed tone as he approached Hyojong. “How can you just tell yourself that this is it, that there’s nothing I can do?”

“You wouldn’t get it.” Hyojong said.

“Help me understand. Help me understand why this is better!” Hwitaek didn’t realize his voice was gaining volume, almost shouting now. “Or do you just not care about this relationship? Is that it?”

“After I came out, my father beat me so badly, I couldn’t see my hands in front of my face, Hwitaek.” Hyojong snapped. “He promised by the time he was done with me, I’d be straight. Do you hear what I’m saying?” Hyojong took a step forward, hands darting for Hwitaek’s shirt and fisting his hands in the material. “He swore if I wasn’t “normal”, he would kill me. He didn’t kick me out of the house, I _ran away._ I had to run from everything I knew just to be able to say the words, “I’m gay,” without worrying if somebody was going to kill me for it. If you think I’m selfish for not wanting to hide myself like that for you, then fine, I’m the most selfish person in the world. But don’t you ever, _ever_ insinuate that I don’t care about this relationship.”

Hyojong faltered as a quiet hiccup interrupted his voice. Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. “A-and... and you helped me a lot, hyung. Probably more than you could ever know. I should’ve told you more often, but I refuse to put myself through this for anybody, not even for you. Maybe that is selfish.” Hyojong admitted. “There’s just not enough of me left for this. That’s why we’re ending this now. It’s... for the best.”

“N-no, please—”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Hyojong said softly. “Go home, hyung. Go home, and be normal, since that’s what you want so badly.”

“I want _you_ more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life.” Hwitaek felt his own eyes watering up with tears, burning as he lifted one hand to his eye and rubbed the tears away. “You said you still love me.”

“Yeah.” Hyojong said obviously. “I still love you, Hui. That’s why I’m giving you this chance.” He lifted his hands from his sides, one cupping Hwitaek’s cheek as Hwitaek pressed himself closer to the warmth of his palm and let his eyes flutter shut, pretended that this situation he had put himself in wasn’t happening, that Hyojong wasn’t breaking up with him. “It’s okay, hyung. Just go back to the way it was before we met.”

“I don’t want to.” Hwitaek said childishly, warm tears pooling in his eyes again as they slipped down his cheeks and trickled down Hyojong’s fingers. “Not after everything. Not without you.”

Hyojong nodded knowingly, the warmth of Hwitaek’s skin almost too much for him to bear. Hwitaek lifted his own hand and gently set it on top of Hyojong’s squeezed slightly, pleaded through his timid touches as if it would somehow change Hyojong’s mind more than begging verbally did.

Maybe, for a split second, it did.

Hyojong leaned in and pressed his lips to Hwitaek’s own, committed the sensation and softness of his lips to memory. The action was weak, hardly able to be considered a proper kiss but more of a gentle brush of their lips. Hwitaek shuddered out a breath, wind knocked from his lungs with the simple touch of Hyojong’s hand to his chest as he gently pushed him away.

“Get home safe.”

Unable to do anything else other than nod, Hwitaek walked to the front door with Hyojong, and let Hyojong open the door for him one last time. As he stepped past the threshold of the apartment, Hyojong mumbled a quiet “goodbye”, his voice vulnerable and soft, unlike anything Hwitaek had heard before in his life.

  
  
  
  


Hwitaek found himself spending more and more time working, saving up money for nothing in particular, and sometimes spending time with Hyunggu outside of the apartment, something they didn’t do much before because Hyunggu had to study and didn’t have the spare money to go out for dinner or lunch all the time. Plus, Hyunggu had introduced Hwitaek to Shinwon, a new friend he could spend time with while Hyunggu was off in classes.

And Hwitaek took a few months to himself without dating. He told his mother it was because of health matters, to which she immediately panicked about and asked if he needed to come home. Most of the time, she accepted his denial of her offers and left it at that, until one particular day where Hwitaek was half-asleep, woken from a nap after a long day at work, and his mother was harassing him yet again. Without the sense in his mind to keep quiet, when his mother asked about his health, he said, “I’ve been fine the entire time, it was a lie.”

She pressed for more, begged Hwitaek to explain what he meant and why he was avoiding dating for so long if not for his health.

“Eomma, you know.... I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you anyways.” Hwitaek sighed, squeezing his phone in his hand and shaking his head. “For months now, I’ve been thinking of how I would tell you. I guess this is better than anything I thought of.”

“What is it? It’s not like you’re too busy to date, you don’t do much—”

“Before you set me up with that woman, I was already dating somebody.”

“Oh?” His mother let out a surprised noise. “Well, why didn’t you tell me that?”

Hwitaek sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he crossed his legs in front of him and furrowed his brows. He wondered if Hyunggu was still home, considering it was the weekend and he usually went out with Shinwon around this time anyways.

“If it were easy to tell you, I would have.” Hwitaek prefaced, his voice soft, as if his mother would be able to tell what was wrong just by hearing him speak. “That person broke up with me a while ago.”

“Is this supposed to explain why you aren’t dating _now?”_ His mother rushed. Hwitaek tensed, shoulders rising as he took a deep breath in. “Is it something like you’re too heartbroken to date? Because that’s a bit much, you should get over women easily and date another. That’s how your father met me, you know, I knew he would be moving on with or without me, so I—”

“Eomma.” Hwitaek interrupted her, something he never did, not even when he was young, and heard her stutter over her words before stumbling to a stop. Hwitaek swallowed hard against the ball in his throat, cleared his chest and parted his lips to speak, but his mother beat him to it.

“You’re scaring me, Hwitaek-adul. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were saying you were dating a man or something like that.”

He clamped his mouth shut, held back his words and let the silence sit with his mother for a moment more. He could hear her breathing grow nervous, faster with every second that he didn’t say anything. Finally she let out an anxious, weak chuckle, a desperate attempt to gauge if Hwitaek was joking.

“You... you _were_ dating a woman, weren’t you?” She said.

“No, eomma, I wasn’t.” Hwitaek finally spoke, found a sudden rush of adrenaline rushing through his veins with his words.

“Very funny.” She insisted. “You know it isn’t kind to pull those kinds of tricks on your mother, my heart isn’t as strong as it used to be—”

“It’s not a joke.” Hwitaek replied sternly. “I’m serious. I was dating a man for six months, maybe a little longer. I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you, but you’re so insistent that I get married and have kids with a woman, it’s been hard.”

“Well, you broke up with him, didn’t you?” His mother said.

“He left me when he found out I was seeing that woman.”

“Then the problem is gone.”

Hwitaek let his jaw drop, eyes widening as he pulled his phone from his ear. For a split second, he debated just hanging up on his mother, but knew she would just be twice as annoying if he did something like that.

“The “problem”?” Hwitaek said incredulously.

“Yes, the problem, that... _boyfriend_ is gone, so now you can go back to dating women.”

“Okay, I don’t know what part of this you’re not getting,” Hwitaek spoke without formality, words spilling from him before he could realize how disrespectful he was being (though a part of him really didn’t care), “but it wasn’t just a fling. I dated him for six months and I _loved_ him.”

“But now he’s gone, and you haven’t dated another man, so it was clearly—”

“Oh my god. I’m gay!” Hwitaek shouted, shutting his mother up on the other line. “I’m gay, eomma, I’m gay, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you, but— but I am, and I dated a man, and I love him.... And I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment, but it would mean a lot if you accepted me without fighting me on it.” Hwitaek lifted his hand to his chest and clenched his fingers around the material of his shirt, just above his heart. “But if you won’t accept me, it still won’t change anything. So... that’s why I’m not dating.”

The silence following his last words was deafening, more than any loud concert he had been to, more than his thudding pulse in his ears. He swore he could hear the blood rushing through his veins.

“I can’t accept that.” His mother said plainly. Hwitaek’s mouth went dry, but for once, he refused to give in to his anxiety and responded.

“You _won’t_ accept it, it’s not that you _can’t.”_ Hwitaek corrected. “But that’s fine. Don’t accept it. I don’t care.”

“You’re my son, there has to be something I can do to fix you—”

“And if you ever tell me you want to “fix me” again, you can stop considering me your son.” Hwitaek threatened. His mother went quiet once again, voice lost on the other line before the familiar beep to show the other person had hung up rang in Hwitaek’s ears. He dropped his phone on the bed beside him, staring at the screen before it went black and he fell back on the bed with a loud sigh.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, a quiet knock brought Hwitaek away from his thoughts. The door cracked open, and Hyunggu peered inside of the room before smiling at Hwitaek.

“Hey. Sorry, you were napping when I got home, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“It’s okay.” Hwitaek said, pushing himself up on his arms and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I should shower anyways, I feel really grimey.”

“I just finished doing dishes, you might want to wait for some hot water.” Hyunggu warned before he smiled. “Shinwon invited us over to his apartment for video games and lunch, maybe? I told him I wanted you to come with.”

“Oh, you don’t have to invite me over to your friend’s places, you know.” Hwitaek said. “I’m not a complete third wheel.”

“You know I don’t like the idea of you being home alone.” Hyunggu said with a timid laugh. “Please come?”

Hwitaek hummed, tilting his head from side to side before nodding. “Sure. What time?”

“Well, I picked one of your days off, so not until Thursday, but we can get there early for video games and stuff.” Hyunggu bounced on the heels of his feet. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Hyunggu-yah. You’re sweet.”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Hyunggu said. “Anyway, there’s dinner in the fridge, if you want some.”

“Thanks for letting me sleep for a little while, I don’t know what’s up with me lately.” Hwitaek said while pushing himself up to his feet, cracking his back and stretching his arms up over his head. “Maybe I’m getting old.”

“Old, my ass.” Hyunggu snickered before he stopped in his tracks, eyeing Hwitaek carefully. Hwitaek quirked a brow, ready to ask what it was Hyunggu was suddenly so interested in before Hyunggu gave him a short smile and rubbed his neck. “Hey, hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m... really proud of you.”

Hwitaek furrowed his brows. “Uhm?”

“Just....” Hyunggu shrugged and shook his head. “Never mind. I just think you’re really cool, and I’m proud of you. Er, I’m gonna go fold my laundry. Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Hwitaek nodded suspiciously, watched as Hyunggu returned to his bedroom across the hall and closed the door behind him. He always liked to play music while he was doing chores around the house, but Hwitaek was sure the younger had kept his music off while he was asleep, since he was always considerate like that. Sure enough, music seeped through the cracks of Hyunggu’s door and echoed down the hall as Hwitaek walked out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. A cold shower sounded heavenly after a nap, like it would kickstart his senses so he wouldn’t be so groggy later on.

As he walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him, he barely caught sight of himself in the mirror, stopped only when he noticed the slight smile on his face. It felt like it had been months since he had seen himself smile like that, and it very well might have been.

  
  
  
  


As it turned out, Hwitaek had to pick up an extra shift at work before he could stop by Shinwon’s for video games. He was only delayed two hours later than usual, so Hwitaek figured Shinwon and Hyunggu would just fool around for a while before he got there and they could go out and get something to eat.

Work was uneventful, and honestly, Hwitaek should have been milking a boring day for all it was worth, since it came so few and far between, but as soon as the clock reached 2:00, he was clocking out and leaping over the counter, much to his manager’s dismay.

Now he found himself leaning against the elevator of Shinwon’s apartment complex, eyes trained on his phone as he sent Hyunggu a message asking which apartment number it was (because no matter how many times he had been over, he always mixed up two of the numbers and ended up knocking on some stranger’s door.

The elevator door slid open, Hwitaek taking a step out without paying much attention to his surroundings before turning the corner and starting down the hall. His phone chimed with a notification from Hyunggu, his finger swiping across the screen to open it before he ran into something hard, nearly fell back with a loud _oof!_ and then rubbed his chest. Whoever it was he ran into had dropped a heavy box from their arms, a hiss leaving their lips as they looked down and struggled to move the box off of their foot.

“Oh my god!” Hwitaek exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve paid better attention, I’m sorry!” He rushed to move it off, lifting it off of the stranger’s foot before letting out a nervous chuckle. “This is really heavy, how were you lifting this on your own? Is your foot okay? I’m sorry again, really, I can’t believe I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Hwi... Hwitaek?”

Stopping his rant short, a chill ran through Hwitaek’s body at the sound of the stranger’s voice, because the cadence and lilt and tone of his voice was most definitely _not_ strange, not even in the slightest. Hwitaek swallowed hard and looked up, found himself staring into familiar coffee brown eyes and a face he hadn’t seen in months. Instead of a mess of blonde hair, Hyojong’s hair was dyed a light brown, and cut shorter than it had been before.

“Hyojong.” Hwitaek said, his hands suddenly releasing the box and dropping it to the ground once more as Hyojong hissed in pain and struggled to move it off of his foot for the second time. “Oh my god, I’m sorry!” Hwitaek repeated, pushing the box off of Hyojong’s foot and standing up, nearly knocking his head against Hyojong’s own in the process of shoving the box away. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to drop it, really I didn’t. Uh, is there something I can do for you?”

“Probably not.” Hyojong said, glancing up at Hwitaek as he tried to put pressure on his foot before hissing and nodding his head. “Actually, you can help me get inside the apartment.”

“Okay.” Hwitaek said, helping Hyojong hobble inside of the apartment and carrying him to the couch, most of it covered with boxes and little knick-knacks here and there. Hwitaek sat Hyojong down, pushing one of the boxes over underneath Hyojong’s foot and lifting it as Hyojong let out a quiet breath and untied his shoelaces. “I’m so sorry, Hyojong, I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” Hyojong said nonchalantly. “But it’s fine.”

“Your foot doesn’t look fine!” Hwitaek said once Hyojong took his shoe off, found a reddening mark on his foot which was quickly darkening with color with each second. “Do you think it’s broken?”

“No way, it’s just a bruise.” Hyojong said, but his eyes went wide for a split second when he tried to move his foot, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brows. “Maybe a really bad bruise, but it’s not broken. We would know if it was broken, right?”

“I have no idea!” Hwitaek panicked.

“Hey, don’t freak out on me now.” Hyojong snapped his fingers. “I don’t even have an ice pack in the freezer yet....”

“I can get you an ice pack, my friend is just down the hall, I can get one.” Hwitaek rushed, gesturing vaguely towards the couch. “Uh, don’t move.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Hyojong said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Hwitaek ran out of the front door and down the hall to Shinwon’s apartment. He knocked wildly, Hyunggu answering with a grimace on his face before he smiled.

“Hyung—”

“I need an ice pack.” Hwitaek said. “And I might be a little later than I thought.”

  


Shinwon gave Hwitaek an ice pack after Hyunggu grilled him on why he needed it, asking more and more questions until Hwitaek gave in and said he had literally run into Hyojong and hurt his foot. Hyunggu went silent, eyeing Hwitaek carefully and then nodding and saying Hwitaek should take his time helping Hyojong. Part of Hwitaek wondered why Hyunggu had given him that kind of look, but shrugged it off as he started down the hall and opened the door after knocking. Hyojong looked up from his phone, setting down at his side as Hwitaek took a few cautionary steps forward and then lifted the ice pack, and a wrap Shinwon had given him just in case.

“Thanks.” Hyojong said as Hwitaek approached him, dropping to his knees and setting the ice pack down on the bruised part of his foot. It had swollen slightly, red and slight maroon colors settling on the surface of his skin. Hwitaek cringed as Hyojong hissed at the cold temperature against his skin. “Don’t look so serious, Hui.”

The pet name caught the two of them off guard, Hwitaek tensing and Hyojong stuttering over an apology before Hwitaek shook his head.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind.” Hwitaek said. “Uh, do you want me to get you something to drink, or...?”

“Actually, if you could grab the box we left outside, I’d be really thankful.” Hyojong said, moving to reposition his spot on the couch. Hwitaek rushed outside and pushed the box through the threshold of the apartment, leaving it by another few boxes by the door and standing up with a sigh. “Thank you again.”

Hwitaek rubbed his neck sheepishly. “It’s the, er, least I could do after I crushed your foot. Twice. Within the same minute. I’m sorry, again.”

“Hwitaek,” Hyojong said, catching his attention, “it’s fine. It was an accident.”

“Y-yeah.” Hwitaek nodded, looking around the apartment and glancing at how empty it was. “What are you doing here anyways?”

“In my apartment?”

“This is _your_ apartment?” Hwitaek said with a hint of shock in his voice.

“Right, right, you wouldn’t know.” Hyojong mumbled to himself. “Uhm, Wooseok and I saved up enough to move out of that last place. This is our new apartment.”

“Wow, this place is so big!” Hwitaek marveled, poking his head through the doorway to the kitchen. “Is it just you and Wooseok right now?”

“In terms of people, yeah.” Hyojong said.

“Well, what other terms would there be?”

“Uhm....” Hyojong pursed his lips and rocked his head from side to side. “A dog?”

“A... dog.” Hwitaek said. Hyojong nodded. “Let me guess, you rescued it from the side of the road or something like that.”

“Oh, shut up.” Hyojong said, but the two smiled and laughed quietly. “Wooseok’s grandparents actually found the dog, but Wooseok wanted to keep it after he saw it. It’s... uhm... it’s funny to see the two together.” Hyojong said. “Hold on, let me move these boxes, you can sit down.”

“No!” Hwitaek exclaimed, rushing to the other side of the couch and moving the boxes on his own. “Don’t do anything that’ll aggravate your foot. It’s bad enough as is.” Hwitaek said, moving the box to the side and then plopping down on the couch. Hyojong smiled inwardly. “And let me know if I’m intruding.”

“Mm, you can keep me company until Wooseok comes back from his walk with the dog.” Hyojong said. Hwitaek nodded, glancing around the apartment again with the silence that followed Hyojong’s words.

They sat in silence, which wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, considering Hwitaek had no idea what he wanted to say, and Hyojong wasn’t broaching a subject either. With his usual terrible judgment skills, Hwitaek decided to look at Hyojong. His brown hair was cut around the tips of his ears, short, but still wavy and shining with hues of orange and blonde, mainly a dusty brown color that looked good on him. Hyojong had grabbed his phone from his side, mindlessly scrolling through some messages before he flickered his gaze toward Hwitaek. Instantly, Hwitaek’s mouth went dry, mind blank as he looked away with an apology already on the tip of his tongue.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I don’t mind.” Hyojong said. “It’s the hair, right?”

“A little.” Hwitaek admitted. “It’s different. When did you do that?”

“Hm.... Maybe a little over a month after we broke up?” Hyojong said, his words seemingly not bothering him, but clearly having an affect on Hwitaek as he flushed in shame. If Hyojong noticed this, he didn’t mention it. “It’s been this color for four months, give or take.” Hwitaek scrunched up his nose, Hyojong smiling. “I know, it feels weird to think about how long it’s been.”

“Y-yeah. Five months sounds like an awfully long time.” Hwitaek said.

“It’s _felt_ like a long time.” Hyojong mumbled, mainly to himself, but loud enough for Hwitaek to hear. “What have you been doing?”

“Oh.” Hwitaek said dumbly, shocked that Hyojong was interested in hearing about that kind of thing. He didn’t argue with him, though. This was more than anything Hyojong had given him in the past five months, even more than he expected just running into him like this. “Just working a lot. Uhm.... Yeah. Hyunggu and I have been spending more time together, so....”

“Dating?” Hyojong said. Hwitaek’s eyes widened.

“No, I’m not dating Hyunggu! He’s just a kid!”

Hyojong laughed without restraint, the corners of his eyes scrunching up with a smile on his face as he punched Hwitaek’s shoulder. “No, dummy, I meant have you been dating _anybody?”_

Hwitaek’s jaw went slack. “Oh Jesus, I thought you meant were Hyunggu and I dating. I almost had a heart attack.” Hwitaek paused and scratched his cheek. “No dating. After the whole... _thing,”_ Hwitaek gestured vaguely between himself and Hyojong, “I decided I didn’t want to do that for a while.”

“I bet your mom is annoyed with that.” Hyojong said. Hwitaek swore he could hear a slightly bitter tone in his voice, but he brushed it off as his imagination and continued talking.

“Actually.... I wouldn’t know.”

“Why not?” Hyojong said suspiciously.

“Well— I mean, she _was_ pretty annoyed with me, but last week, I... uh, I came out to her.”

Hyojong raised his brows, eyes widened with surprise. “Did you really?”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek confessed. “She hasn’t called me since, so I’m assuming that relationship is pretty much over and done with, but I don’t regret it. Honestly, I feel a lot better about it, actually.”

“Really?” Hyojong pressed, now clearly interested in the conversational topic as he repositioned himself on the couch to face Hwitaek better. “Don’t be sure about your relationship with your mom either. Maybe she’ll come around.”

“She reacted pretty badly, so I can’t imagine how my father reacted.” Hwitaek said. “He’s probably pretty disappointed in me.”

Hyojong furrowed his brows. “Well, I’m proud of you.”

Hwitaek’s heart skipped, pulse picking up pace as Hwitaek nodded appreciatively. That didn’t mean anything, he told himself while smiling at Hyojong.

“Thank you.” Hwitaek gestured towards Hyojong. “Uhm, what about you?”

“What about me?” Hyojong repeated.

“Like... did you ever see your mother?”

“Oh, you remembered.” Hyojong said. Hwitaek nodded and averted his gaze to the couch, tracing over the texture of the cushions beneath him. “Actually, I did see her. I came out to her too. It... wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Hyojong tapped his fingers against one of the boxes beside him. “She was shocked at first, but, er, she said that she had already lost me once to my father, and that she didn’t want to alienate herself from me for something like that. So she just accepted it.”

Hwitaek pinched Hyojong’s arm. “And you were worried she would react badly.” He laughed. “Have you talked to her lately?”

“Yeah, she was helping us pick out apartments a few weeks ago, and I talked to her on the phone a couple days ago. She’s been really kind about everything, and she loves Wooseok, so... I’m pretty happy to have her in my life again.”

“Hey, that’s good. And what about Wooseok? What’s he doing? He graduated, right?”

“Yeah, he did.” Hyojong beamed with pride. “Do you want to see pictures? I have some in one of these boxes. You wouldn’t believe how many pictures I took. I was like a proud mother, I even cried.” Hyojong said, stifling a chuckle as he moved over on the couch and opened one of the boxes. “No, not this one. Maybe this one? I knew I should’ve labeled these boxes, we’re gonna be unpacking for weeks....”

As Hyojong shifted on the couch and opened a few of the boxes before finding an album for Wooseok’s graduation pictures, Hwitaek found himself smiling warmly, a fuzzy feeling building up in the bottom of his chest. The more Hyojong chattered on about Wooseok and school, and how Hyojong’s mother even attending the ceremony, he found himself growing more and more comfortable with staring at Hyojong, even when Hyojong caught him and blushed with slight embarrassment.

“Actually, do you want to stay for dinner?” Hyojong said quickly, his expression falling when he noticed the shock clearly painted on Hwitaek’s face. “I mean, you don’t have to, it’s okay, I just thought since you’re here, and Wooseok will be back soon, we can order some food and just.... N-never mind, you don’t have to.” Hyojong waved his hand. Hwitaek swallowed thickly, looked towards the front door.

“Uhm, my friends were actually expecting me to be over there, so... maybe I should get going.”

“Oh. Okay.” Hyojong said. “It was nice to see you, then.”

“Yeah.” Hwitaek echoed awkwardly. Hyojong moved to push himself up on his feet, the pain having subsided now that the had iced the bruise a little, but Hwitaek kept him seated and shook his head. “Don’t worry about walking me out, I don’t mind. Uh, keep icing that, okay?”

“Yeah.” Hyojong nodded. Hwitaek rushed out of the apartment without sparing Hyojong a second glance, shutting the door behind him and running to Shinwon’s.

“Oh, hyung.” Hyunggu said as he opened the door. “Back so soon? I thought you were with Hyojong.”

“N-no, I couldn’t be over there anymore.” Hwitaek said, rushing inside of Shinwon’s apartment and pacing the small living room. Shinwon was in his kitchen, rummaging through his fridge for food while Hyunggu closed the apartment door.

“Did something bad happen?” Hyunggu said. “Is he still mad about what you did?”

Hwitaek shook his head and threw himself down on the couch. “No, it’s not that. He wasn’t bitter about it at all, but he was just... uhm... I don’t know!”

Hyunggu sat down beside Hwitaek. “Spit it out, hyung, I’m sure it’s not that bad. Whatever it is, to be fair, you probably deserved it.”

Hwitaek pouted as Hyunggu snickered and Shinwon leaned in the doorway of the kitchen and the living room. Taking a deep breath in, Hwitaek steadied himself and cleared his thoughts. Hyojong inviting him over for dinner really didn’t mean anything, and he was definitely thinking into it way too much. After all, he and Hyojong had broken up because of Hwitaek’s inability to accept the fact that he really was interested in men. They hadn’t spoken at all, besides the conversation they just had. Wasn’t it too fast for Hwitaek to assume Hyojong wanted him around?

“It’s just that he invited me over for dinner, but you two had invited me over first, so I said no. That was the right thing to do, right? Right?”

“Lee Hwitaek, are you an idiot?” Hyunggu said incredulously. Hwitaek quirked a brow.

“You know, a lot of people say that kind of thing to me when I do something wrong, I’ve noticed.” Hwitaek said. “What, what did I do?”

“Get back over there and have dinner with him before I punch you!” Hyunggu said, moving to shove Hwitaek off of the couch before pushing him all the way back to the front door. “Don’t come back!”

“But you drove this time, Hyunggu!” Hwitaek managed to rush out before Hyunggu slammed the door in his face. His voice was muffled behind the door, followed by Shinwon’s quiet voice. Hwitaek waited, as if Hyunggu would open the door and welcome him in again. Hwitaek glanced down the hall, eyes finding Hyojong’s door still closed.

Hwitaek approached the door carefully, rocking back and forth on his heels as he stared at the numbers on the door. Walking back home was a very viable option, he thought while wiping his suddenly clammy hands on the front of his jeans. He could leave and pretend none of this had happened, go home, watch TV and curl up with some blankets before Hyunggu came home and scolded him for being a coward.

But.

But truthfully, Hwitaek’s heart had been pounding for far too long for it to be normal, for his feelings to be completely platonic towards Hyojong. A part of Hwitaek’s heart reminded him of what Hyojong had said before they had broken up, that he still loved him, and he wondered if that still held true. Before he could overthink it anymore, he brought his knuckles down on the door and waited, a quiet noise coming from the other side of the door before it swung open and Hyojong appeared behind it. A smile immediately appeared on Hyojong’s face, small, but still enough to take Hwitaek’s breath.

“About dinner, I.... Uh, I....” Hwitaek prefaced. Hyojong smirked.

“What about dinner?”

“I— er, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out for dinner.” Hwitaek gestured vaguely towards the elevator, face reddening with embarrassment. His pulse was loud, almost shamefully so, but he couldn’t bring himself to care as Hyojong’s expression brightened. And Hwitaek— _oh,_ Hwitaek was so weak and he didn’t need his heart to remind him of how desperately in love he was with Hyojong. Not when he was smiling like this, gingerly tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear and nodding.

“Going out for dinner sounds nice.” Hyojong said, but gestured down to his foot. “You’d have to carry me, though. I’m a little incapacitated at the moment.”

“I’d carry you all the way there if you asked me to.” Hwitaek said, the two erupting into laughter as Hyojong flushed darker.

“And I have to warn you, I now have _two_ roommates with ravenous appetites.” Hyojong continued. Hwitaek rubbed the back of his neck as Hyojong stepped back from the door. “Do you want to wait here for Wooseok to come back, or are you gonna run off to your friend’s place again?”

“I want to wait here.” Hwitaek said. “Uh, with you. On your couch. And you can show me pictures of Wooseok’s graduation while we wait.”

Hyojong beamed with happiness now, reaching his hand out and taking Hwitaek’s own from his side. Their fingers laced together, warmth from Hwitaek’s hands spreading through Hyojong’s own as Hyojong looked down at their hands and bit his bottom lip.

“What is this?” Hyojong said, squeezing his fingers around Hwitaek’s. “What... are we?”

Hwitaek furrowed his brows, searching for something in Hyojong’s eyes. Most of the time, when Hyojong asked questions, he was nonchalant, didn’t care either way and didn’t mind what sort of answer Hwitaek gave him, but the hint of confusion, and possible curiosity in his voice, showed Hwitaek exactly what kind of answer Hyojong was looking for.

“Whatever you want us to be, Hyojong.” Hwitaek said.

“That answer doesn’t apply in this situation.” Hyojong said, narrowing his dissatisfied gaze to Hwitaek. Hwitaek took a step forward, careful, deliberate in his movements as he rested one hand on Hyojong’s waist and held him in place.

“Yeah, it does.” Hwitaek nodded, leaning in close and hearing Hyojong’s breath catch in his throat.

“Yeah? And why’s that?” Hyojong breathed out, lips parted as Hwitaek’s eyes lingered on his pink lips.

“Because I know what I want.” Hwitaek admitted. “I know exactly _who_ I want, Hyojong.” He lifted his hands and brushed his fingertips across Hyojong’s cheeks. “I want you.”

Hyojong smiled, leaning and pressing his forehead against Hwitaek’s own with a bright blush on his face.

“You’re so greasy, hyung.” Hyojong snorted with laughter.

“Yeah, I know.” Hwitaek said. “So... what is it that you want, Hyojong?”

Hyojong hesitated, blinking away the shock before he pecked a kiss to Hwitaek’s cheek. “This. You. I want to be with you.”

Hwitaek nuzzled his face closer to the crook of Hyojong’s neck, pulling him into an embrace and squeezing as tightly as he possibly could, as if Hyojong would leave if he didn’t.

And they moved to the couch, Hwitaek basically carrying Hyojong there and flopping down on the couch with him as Hyojong grabbed a black photo album and opened it to the first page. Hyojong started talking about the ceremony, eyes wide with happiness as Hwitaek spotted Wooseok in each of the pictures, some of them blurry, some of them solo, some of them with Yuto and the others as they grinned and threw up peace signs and whatever gestures they could without getting in trouble. When they made it through all of the pictures, they heard the front door open, followed by loud yips from a small dog, and a deep voice from Wooseok as he closed the door behind him and greeted Hwitaek as if he hadn’t disappeared from their lives for five months.

“Let me change my clothes, we can leave for dinner.” Wooseok said after Hyojong informed him that Hwitaek wanted to take them out, running down the hall after rummaging through some of the boxes and finding a spare outfit he had packed away. As Hwitaek moved to stand up, he felt a slight warmth of the top of his hand, eyes darting to where his hand sat on the couch cushion, Hyojong’s resting on top of his. Hwitaek flickered his gaze to Hyojong’s eyes, found he was staring intently with a timid blush dusting the apples of his cheeks.

Maybe they didn’t need words. Maybe there was nothing left to say at that moment. Hwitaek wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Hyojong was there, in front of him. He was smiling and his eyes were bright, and he was so, so overwhelmingly loving that Hwitaek wondered for a second if he even deserved this.

But when Hyojong squeezed his hand and leaned in to press another fleetingly warm kiss to his cheeks, Hwitaek knew even if he didn’t deserve Hyojong and the love he had to give, he’d do whatever it took to earn it back properly. He’d go to the ends of the world just to feel that cozy, fuzzy warm feeling from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, even just a second more of it.

When they left the apartment, they left hand-in-hand, Wooseok leading the way downstairs as he chattered about how Hyojong had finally taught him how to drive, and that he’d be driving the entire way to the restaurant.

It was almost exactly like before, Hwitaek thought. The only thing that was different now was that he didn’t mind the odd looks people threw their way as they walked down the street, and he didn’t mind pecking a kiss on Hyojong’s cheeks when they sat at their usual table, and the waitress they always had flashed them a bright grin as she took their order.

It was familiar and comfortable and loving, and Hwitaek loved Hyojong so much, he couldn’t imagine being afraid of loving him ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> MAN THAT WAS LONG AS HELL RIGHT! RIGHT! TOOK ME LIKE THREE WEEKS TO WRITE! also the ending was rushed because if i didn't get the ending written i was going to abandon this and not post it im sorry lsjdkflgkjfdsnlnlfjsf
> 
> title from [catch me when i fall](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcHsWONb27o) by luhan.
> 
> thank you for reading! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ let me kno if u find typos/mistakes (i fuckin mixed up hwitaek's and hyojong's name like six times alskjfdlfjasldjf) i only proofread this once considering the length so there's bound to be mistakes!
> 
> talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/iIyssssm) or [tumblr](http://ilyssssm.tumblr.com/)!!!!


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